The Last Marauder Revised
by FairyTale
Summary: It's the summer after fifth year - and now it's AU - The murder of one of his father's last friend puts Harry and the last Marauder through trying times. Things don't get better when Voldemort starts the war again...*Repost of altered version*
1. Prologue: Trapped

A (not so short) note at the beginning:

A couple of months ago, I decided that this fic needed a good working over. I myself started to cringe when I read certain parts, and there were obvious plot-holes that needed to be filled. But then I thought, as this is a 6th year fic, it might be better to wait until OoP came out and make the adjustments according to what happens in that book.

Now, as most of you might know by now, the ending of OoP makes it a bit difficult to adjust this story in any way, impossible really. I won't explain further, those of you who have read the book know what I mean and those who haven't read the book and are waiting for the translations to their own native languages (I don't think it's worth the wait, folks) will know in time.

To make a long story short (and not to bother you with my own opinion about OoP, which is not a positive one for many reasons), I have decided to give The Last Marauder my own personal working over, independent from most of what happens in OoP (especially in the fourth and third to last chapter) and call it **AU from now on. I guess very much I'll write from now on might fall into that category.**

I've made a couple of adjustments, mostly I added sub-plots and hopefully gave my characters more reasons to act as they do. And I tried to do something about that weird timeline, I really did.

So here is the re-written version of The Last Marauder. Those of you who already read it hopefully find something improved (though the main storyline remains the same) and for those who haven't, I hope you find a good new fic here.

  
Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot. All Harry Potter™ characters and settings are the sole intellectual property of Joanne K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and various others who all aren't connected to me in any way. **If they were mine, I'd have done certain things very much differently. No money is being made with this fic and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Prologue: Trapped**

Remus Lupin was sitting at the wooden table in his small kitchen and was reading the Daily Prophet, just like he did every morning. His cottage lay secluded near a forest somewhere in Kent, far enough from the next settlement so that he didn't pose any danger to the inhabitants of the small town. In Remus' opinion, one could never be careful enough if one was a werewolf.

For the past year, Remus had been sharing his small cottage with his old friend from school days, Sirius Black, another occurrence when the seclusion of his home came in handy. Sirius was still on the run from the Ministry, he was still searched for crimes he had not committed. Clearing his name had become more and more urgent during the past months, not only but most importantly because of one person: Harry Potter, Sirius' nearly sixteen year old godson. Harry was still living with his muggle relatives in Surrey, but not only Remus and Sirius thought it important that he was protected by wizards whenever he was not at school.

At the end of Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts, slightly more than a year ago, Lord Voldemort had managed to get hold of Harry and had used the boy's blood in an ancient magical rite to resurrect himself. Not only this, but he also ordered the death of Harry's school mate Cedric Diggory. A boy of seventeen years, Cedric had died just because he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

As if this had not been enough already, Minister of Magic Fudge had refused to believe the story Harry had told after he had managed to get back to Hogwarts alive by sheer luck. As a result, Albus Dumbledore had broken with the Ministry because he had refused to sit back and wait for Voldemort to act, he had refused to let the Dark Lord attack and strike them unprepared. Dumbledore had his own circle of loyal supporters, allies from every imaginable position in the wizarding world, and during the past year those supporters had done the best they could to track down Voldemort's followers and find any hints as to what the Dark Lord was planning.

Because even though the past twelve months had passed without any incident related to Voldemort at all, none of those close to Dumbledore believed this to be a sign that Voldemort would not strike. Truly, it had helped Fudge in promoting his view on things, it had helped him convincing the public that Voldemort's second rise was nothing but the fantasy of a mentally unstable teenager.

There had been nothing Sirius and Remus had wished more than to be able and support Harry during this trying time, but it had been nearly impossible. Other than a couple of short meetings during the past school year and a regular contact via letters there had been nothing else Sirius could do for his godson, no matter how much he had wanted or Harry had needed it. As long as Sirius was still on the run from the Ministry there was no possibility for him to gain legal custody over Harry, and Remus himself didn't have much better chances. _'Werewolf petitioning custody for The Boy Who Lived', now that would be a show to remember._

Whenever Harry was not at Hogwarts, he was staying with his muggle relatives in Surrey. It was a solution that agreed with neither Harry nor Sirius and Remus, let alone the Dursleys, but there simply was no other place for the teenager to stay where he would have been as safe as he was with his blood relatives. Blood relations provided an ideal basis for strong protection magic, and until Sirius' name was cleared and he and Remus could actively care for Harry's security, staying with the Dursleys was the only alternative Harry had.

That was why the two men focused all their attention on finding a way to clear Sirius. 

As a werewolf and an escaped convict, both didn't like respectively were unable to leave their secluded hiding place, so Sirius and Remus spent most of their time with organizing the correspondence of Dumbledore's order, keeping in touch with all his supporters, collecting the information that was gathered by them and doing research on what the other members had found. 

All of Dumbledore's other supporters had been informed of Sirius' innocence and Pettigrew's treason, and they were all well aware of the urgent need to clear Sirius' name. Under normal circumstances, Sirius' confession under Veritaserum should be enough to prove his innocence, but under the current circumstances within the Ministry, neither Dumbledore nor Sirius wanted to risk handing Sirius over voluntarily. He was still ordered to receive the Dementor's kiss upon capture, no matter that he never had a trial when he had been first arrested. And unless it wasn't granted that Sirius would be given the trial once he was captured, Sirius put all his efforts in finding Peter Pettigrew and thus forcing the Ministry to listen to his story first.

Slightly less than a week ago, Mundungus Fletcher, an Auror and close ally to Dumbledore, had received news concerning the location of a possible Death Eater hideout, and Sirius had followed him to southern Wales in the hope to find Peter Pettigrew amongst them. So far, Remus had not received news from any of them, and slowly he was starting to get worried.

Sirius' one big advantage was the fact that he was an illegal animagus and that therefore nobody recognized him when he assumed the form of his alter ego, a big black dog. But the form of Padfoot didn't provide complete protection from the Ministry, and there were far more things that could possibly go wrong than Remus allowed himself to think about. 

He kept no telling himself that no news meant good news, at least he'd know by now if something had happened.

And so far he had not heard from Fletcher, either, so it was possible that they were still investigating the hideout. It was of no use if he started to panic now. But still, Remus was not able to suppress the bad gut feeling that was getting stronger and stronger.

With a sigh, Remus rose from his chair and put his breakfast plate in the sink. He'd make himself another cup of tea and then he'd return to his study and continue to work through the pile of parchments on his desk. Two days ago, copies of intercepted letters had been sent to Remus and he was still trying to decode them. They had been sent by somebody whom Arabella Figg suspected of at least being associated with Death Eaters, and the fact that this person was sending coded letters was enough to let the order's alarm bells ring. 

The letters had been passed on to Remus in the hope that he would be able to find out what they were saying. Remus had a liking for solving puzzles and quite a talent for translating languages and solving riddles. But this time Remus was at a complete loss at what to do. He didn't know what to make of the strange combination of letters and symbols that were the contents of the letters, and he had already spent the whole previous day with trying to think of a possible starting point to unravel the code.

With movements that were carried out so automatically that Remus didn't really need to think about what he was doing, he filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove. While the water was boiling, Remus threw three tea bags into the large tea pot and waited until the water was finished. 

With the tea and a plate of biscuits, Remus went into the study and sat down at his desk. A biscuit in his hand, Remus stared at the parchment in front of him. There had to be a way to decode the letter, and all Remus needed was a starting point. 

One and a half hours later Remus still wasn't closer to solving the code than he had been before. The teapot was empty, there were no biscuits left and he had the strong suspicion that the letters were abbreviations for book titles or other references. With a sigh he decided to send another copy of the letter to Madam Pince in the Hogwarts library. If his suspicions were true, then she would be the one to figure it out.

Just as Remus was about to search his fridge for possible lunch ingredients, a low *pop* from the hallway announced that he had a visitor. Which surprised him quite a bit. Usually, his visitors didn't apparate straight into his hall, but had the decency to either announce themselves through the fireplace, or to apparate in front of the door and to knock.

Remus quickly drew his wand and turned towards the hallway to investigate the identity of is visitor.

"Remus?"

Upon hearing the voice, Remus let the wand sink down, though he didn't pocket it again. That he would only do once he had made sure that it was really who he supposed it was. When Remus turned around the corner, the unmistakable red hair of a Weasley greeted him and that was as much confirmation as Remus needed. He put his wand back into the sleeve of his robe and went over to greet his guest.

"Arthur, hello. What brings you here?"

"Hello, Remus. My apologies for apparating straight into your house, but I'm afraid it's rather urgent."  
Both men quickly shook hands, but from the look on Arthur's face Remus could already guess that something was seriously wrong. 

For a moment, Remus contemplated why Arthur would have come or been sent here. Normally, though they both worked for Dumbledore, their ways rarely crossed. Arthur was doing what he could within the Ministry whereas Remus completed the information Arthur gathered from various other sources.

"Arthur, has something happened?"

Suddenly, that bad gut feeling Remus had had earlier that day was back again. Something here was definitely not right.

"Arthur?"  
Arthur Weasley sighed and nodded.

"Yes, something has happened. Albus sent me to come here and fetch you. We have a big problem."

"Where?"

"The Ministry."

A lump formed in Remus' stomach and he prayed that this didn't mean what he thought it did. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.

"Sirius?"

Arthur nodded.

"They caught him this morning. We need to get there as fast as possible. Albus is already there and tries to convince them to give him a trial, but in case they refuse it might be better if it's not only Albus there to defend him."  
Remus nodded, desperately trying to straighten his tumultuous thoughts. Sirius had been caught. That was rather bad news, but as long as Albus knew about it and had already involved himself there was still hope. He just had to keep his wits together, it would not help Sirius at all if he started panicking now. Nevertheless he could not help to worry about him.

Remus quickly grabbed his robe and nodded at Arthur.

"Where to do we apparate?"  
"Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Entrance Hall."

Straight into the lion's den. A grim determination on his face, Remus nodded and prepared himself to apparate.

Five minutes later Remus stormed through a corridor in the DMLE in search of the staircase. He had left Arthur in the entrance hall, it was not necessary that they were seen together. Arthur was supposed to keep a low profile at the Ministry, his close connections to Albus Dumbledore and his circle of supporters needn't become public if it could be avoided. He had been able to tell Remus that Sirius and Dumbledore supposedly were in one of the holding cells in the basement, so that was where he was heading.

He reached the basement easy enough and soon found himself in the area where newly-caught prisoners were held. So far, Remus had not encountered anybody who had tried to stop him. The entrance to the basement had been guarded by two Aurors, but upon telling them that Albus Dumbledore was expecting him in the downstairs corridor they had allowed Remus to pass. He had only needed to sign the register, that had been all. But that didn't strike him as odd. It was no wonder that getting into the holding cells was easy, it was getting out that surely was near-impossible. The whole basement reeked of magic, and three times already Remus had felt the magical signature of holding wards as he had crossed them. Nobody got out here without either permission or without triggering all alarms.

At the far end of the corridor, Remus saw five wizards in the official yellow and black Auror robes guarding the cell at the end of the corridor and another strongly secured room next to it.

The door on the right was guarded by two Aurors, seemed to be protected by strong magical shields and still Remus could feel the mind numbing cold waves emitting from the Dementors that he supposed were held behind it.

In front of the other door, the one at the end of the corridor, arms crossed over his chest, stood Albus Dumbledore, and it was obvious that he was not too pleased with what had happened to Sirius. Had Remus not already known that the old headmaster was not the fragile old man he often appeared to be, but a very powerful wizard, the look on Dumbledore's face right now would have convinced him. The old wizard's blue eyes were hard and resolute, daring the Aurors to try and get past him in to the room where Sirius was most likely locked in. He was radiating power and at the moment it was completely understandable why even Voldemort feared Albus Dumbledore. 

The three remaining Aurors were standing between Albus Dumbledore and the only exit at the other end of the corridor, and Remus wasn't entirely sure whether they were guarding Sirius behind the door or Dumbledore in front of it.

Remus stepped closer and immediately he found himself held at wand point by one of the Aurors. He raised his hands slightly to show that he was holding no wand. Remus thought he saw a slight smile appear on Dumbledore's face.

"Ah, Remus. I was hoping you'd arrive as fast as possible."

Remus nodded.

"I came as soon as I heard what had happened."

The Auror that had held him at wand point pulled out a register from his pocket.

"Name?"

Remus turned towards him.

"Remus J. Lupin."

The Auror wrote the information down.

"If you want to stay here, you'll have to hand over your wand. We can't let you remain armed."  
Remus obediently handed over his wand, but the Auror didn't seem to be finished with his instructions.

"You may remain in the corridor, but you may not enter the prisoner's cell without previous permission of the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement or the Minister of Magic himself. If you try to resist any explicit order given to you, or make any attempt to attack a Ministry official or help the prisoner escape you will immediately be taken into custody yourself. Until the further procedures are decided, nobody enters the prisoner's cell. Is that understood?"

Remus nodded half-heartedly and stepped beside Dumbledore, mimicking his stance with his arms crossed over his chest. He couldn't care less about the other wizard's instructions at the moment, all he could think of was Sirius and how it would go on from here for his friend. Dumbledore was glancing over at Remus, and the younger man was a little surprised to see the headmaster's eyes sparkle behind his glasses, as if he was a tad bit amused even despite the situation they were in now.

"I take it Sirius is in the cell behind us?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes."

"How is he doing?"

Not taking his eyes off the Aurors in front of him, Dumbledore answered.

"He was lucky. When I arrived they were already about to hand him over to the Dementors." The old wizard shook his head in a gesture of disbelief. "I didn't even know there were Dementors in the building. Fudge seems to keep two of them here on a regular basis for cases like this. Sirius has been lucky this time."

Remus slowly released a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. That Sirius might be caught and receive the Dementor's kiss had been his biggest concern for two years now, and realizing that today this nightmare had nearly come true was not a very calming thought. But everybody had earned a bit of luck at times, and Merlin knew Sirius had been entitled for it. 

What worried him was that Dumbledore had said Sirius had been about to be handed over to the Dementors. Remus knew what the presence of Dementors did to his old friend.

"He's been close to the Dementors again?"  
Dumbledore nodded grimly, his eyes flashing angrily.

"He didn't take it too well, but he's holding up alright at the moment. But he knows the Dementors are still close, so I guess he won't be completely relieved until he's as far away from them as possible."

They continued their vigil silently for some more moments, but Remus had still too many questions that were bothering him.

"How?"

Remus didn't need to elaborate any further. Dumbledore knew what he wanted to know. How had it happened, how had Sirius been arrested?

"I don't know the details, but from what I gathered, on his way from southern Wales back to Kent he had the misfortune to run into a group of hit team wizards who were cleaning up a crime scene."

Remus frowned his brow and shook his head.

"But that doesn't make sense. How were they able to recognize him as Padfoot?"

Dumbledore didn't reply but merely looked at Remus intensely. The look in his eyes was answer enough.

"But…why? I mean, I know that Sirius is rash and sometimes he's not as careful as he should be, but he knew how important keeping his disguise was. I can't imagine why he would have just run around for everybody to arrest him."

Dumbledore let his eyes wander through the corridor.

"That is one of the things we need to ask him once there is the time for it."

"What will happen now?"

Dumbledore shrugged and sighed deeply.

"For now I think I have prevented him from being handed over to the Dementors immediately. Fudge is on his way here, and I won't let anybody get past me until I have the guarantee that Sirius will be given a trial."

Remus nodded.

"Neither will I. I just hope it will be enough."

"So do I Remus, so do I. But it's all we can do at the moment."

"We can't go in that cell and see him?"

Dumbledore shook his head, his eyes darting over towards the armed Aurors that were watching them attentively.

"I'm afraid that would not be a good idea. 

Ah, but maybe it'll all be over sooner than we expected. Cornelius, how are you?"  
Remus looked up just to see the figure of Cornelius Fudge stride towards them. From the look on his face, he was not in the best of moods, quite the contrary to the cheery face Dumbledore had suddenly started to show.

Fudge ignored him for the moment and went over towards the Auror who was in charge.

"Sirius Black is in holding cell 7b?"

The Auror nodded.

"We have Dementors in the building?"  
Again, the Auror nodded.

"Then I take it that the Dementor's kiss has been administered already?"

This time, the Auror shook his head and scratched it in search of an explanation. Fudge seemed to be utterly confused.

"Why not?"

"Professor Dumbledore intervened…"

"Albus Dumbledore holds no authority in this building. Why haven't you ordered the kiss to be administered?"

The Auror shrugged and avoided the Minister's gaze. It was true that technically spoken Albus Dumbledore didn't hold any authority at the Ministry, but he had been headmaster of most of the younger Aurors, and the Transfiguration Professor for most of the older Ministry officials, and a lot of them still held a huge amount of respect for him. It was difficult to say no to Albus Dumbledore, one didn't just disagree with him. Except from Cornelius Fudge, of course.

"I demand to know what is going on here, Albus. You have no right to interfere in official Ministry procedures."

Dumbledore met Fudge's gaze squarely and Remus got the impression he enjoyed the confrontation. His voice evenly, very much unlike Fudge's shouting, he replied.

"I have taken the liberty to save the life of an innocent man, Cornelius. And you would be aware of that fact as well if Sirius Black had been granted a trial when he was first arrested more than fourteen years ago."

Fudge's face turned deep red and he dramatically waved his hands in the air.

"That is impossible! I really start doubting your sanity, Albus. First you believe that crackpot story the Potter boy came up with a year ago, about You-Know-Who having returned, and now you claim that Sirius Black is innocent? Albus, that man has killed thirteen people in one strike, he's been found at the scene of the crime, laughing insanely. 

Really, we finally got You-Know-Who's right hand man in custody again and now you claim that he is innocent!"

Dumbledore calmly nodded.  
"Yes, this I do. Sirius Black is innocent, he is not insane, and neither is he or has he ever been Voldemort's right hand man."

Remus had to hide a smile as he saw Fudge flinch at hearing the Dark Lord's name. But Dumbledore wasn't finished yet.

"There is a very good explanation for the events that took place nearly fifteen years ago, and you'll hear it if you agree to give Mr. Black a trial, just as it is his right. If you're so convinced of his guilt then you have nothing to lose, but the trial will prove once and for all that you were right."

There was a challenge in Dumbledore's voice, and after a moment's hesitation, Fudge accepted it.

"Alright, but don't hold me responsible if this farce ruins your reputation once and for all."

Fudge checked his watch.

"It's half past eleven, I'll see that we'll get a free court room this afternoon. If you also want him to have a legal representative, you'll have to organize one yourself. Good luck in finding somebody willing to defend him in court."

Fudge grinned smugly, but Dumbledore's expression didn't change. Calmly, he replied.

"Don't worry yourself over Mr. Black's legal representative. I'll defend him in court, that should be more than sufficient."

The Minister regarded Dumbledore from narrowed eyes.

"You're really involving yourself, Albus. I hope you know what this will do to you and your position in the magical community once this 'trial' is done with and Black has received the Dementor's kiss. I really hope you do.

Is there anybody else you need as witness to prove Black's 'innocence'?"

Dumbledore nodded, ignoring the sarcastic malice in Fudge's voice completely.

"Actually, yes there are. I have a small list of witnesses, now that you ask."

Fudge sighed.

"Who?"

"Remus J. Lupin, for one."

Fudge stared at Remus and it was impossible to tell whether the contempt Fudge was showing was because of his lycanthropy or because of the fact that he had been named as a witness for Sirius' innocence.

"Else?"

"Ronald Weasley. He's the youngest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, getting him here on time should not pose a problem. From what I know, Arthur is in his office right now, he should be able to bring him over.

Then Hermione Granger, muggle born Hogwarts student. Her parents reside in a Manchester suburb. If you have problems locating her, just contact Minerva McGonagall to bring her over."

Fudge was clearly not pleased with the insinuation that his office would not be able to locate a muggle born girl.

"I think we can manage that very well on our own. Somebody else? Or are you quite finished?"

Dumbledore smiled, ignoring the snide sound of Fudge's voice deliberately.

"Quite, just one witness more."  
Fudge raised a curious eyebrow.  
"And that witness would be?"  
"Harry Potter."

Fudge looked thunderstruck for a moment, the deep red colour of his face and his rapid breathing the only signs telling that he had not been petrified. Finally he shook his head.

"Let me get this straight. You not only claim that Black, deranged killer that he is, is innocent. No, you also call a werewolf, two underage Hogwarts students and another boy who has proven more than once already that his mind is unstable enough to come up with the most absurd stories, as witnesses to prove that innocence? Albus, you can't be serious about that."

Remus had immediately tensed at Fudge's remark, but Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder, nearly as much to calm him as to hold him back in case Fudge made another remark like that one. His blue eyes didn't leave the Minister's face.

"I'm as serious as one can be about that, Cornelius. Now, if you'd be so kind to see to it that the trial is prepared, I'd be more than thankful."

Fudge raised his eyebrows and gestured first at Dumbledore, then at Remus and last at the locked cell door behind them.

"You intend to stay here? In front of that door? Until the trial begins?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"That I do, Cornelius. We wouldn't want to risk that Mr. Black has an accidental encounter with a Dementor before a trial can be held, would we?"  
The expression on Fudge's face told clearly that this was exactly what he had wanted to 'risk', but Dumbledore remained calm. With one hand he kept a firm grip on Remus' shoulder to prevent the werewolf from giving in to his anger at the Minister's intention for his best friend, with the other he stroke his beard.

"I do. In fact, I'll also have to speak with Mr. Black before the trial begins, and we need to provide him with some decent clothing for this afternoon. It surely isn't a problem for Mr. Lupin and myself to see him?"

Fudge just stared at them for a moment, his eyes wandering between Dumbledore and Lupin as if they had both grown second heads. Eventually, he gained enough control over himself again to talk.

"If you must", he spluttered, "then you might see him. But everything you bring him has to be controlled before it gets into his cell, and at least two Aurors will be present as well."

Dumbledore resolutely shook his head.

"I will also need to speak alone with him, and as his legal representative I have a right to do so."

For some long moments, both men stared at each other, their gazes locked, each willing the other one to be the first to back down. After a very long minute, Fudge looked away.

"I give you fifteen minutes alone. And then it's only you and Black, Albus. If there are no Aurors present, Lupin won't stay in there, either. That's my only offer."

Slowly, Dumbledore nodded.

"Alright, that will be all I need."

"Good."

And without another word, Fudge turned around and left the corridor. The Aurors who had watched the entire scene silently took up their previous positions again, two guarding the door that led to the Dementors, the other three keeping an eye on Remus, Dumbledore and the door to Sirius' cell.

After Fudge had left, they all remained silent for a while, until Dumbledore turned to Remus.

"I'd think that Sirius might not exactly look presentable after a week of travel and his encounter with the Ministry wizards."

Remus immediately understood.

"I have clean sets of his robes at home. Is there anything else I should bring along?"

"Nothing I could think of at the moment. It might be good to organize him something to eat, though, but that can be done later."

Remus nodded and left his place in front of Sirius' door. Dumbledore immediately shifted to the side so that he now stood in the middle of the doorway again. 

Remus went over to the Auror who had disarmed him when he had arrived.

"You want to leave again?"  
Remus nodded.

"Yes. As soon as I can get my wand back."

The Auror retrieved Remus' wand from a small box on the table beside him and handed it over, then he filled something out on a piece of parchment. 

"The holding wards are disabled for your departure. Leave now, and check out again at the holding point straight next to the basement stairs."

Remus nodded again.

"Thank you."

He walked down the corridor and checked out at the Aurors who guarded the basement, then went up the staircase towards the entrance hall again. Arthur Weasley was nowhere to be seen anymore, but that didn't really surprise Remus. After all, he had been down in the basement for over an hour. 

With quick strides he crossed the entrance hall and left the building, apparating away as soon as possible.

Remus apparated into his front garden and lost no time to run into the house. There he did the first thing that came to his mind. He slammed the door shut behind himself and kicked against it as hard as he could, repeatedly.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

It wasn't the peak of eloquence and it wasn't something Remus usually did, but at the moment cursing and kicking the door seemed the only right thing to do.

"SHIT!"

Another kick against the door. His foot didn't even leave a dent in the wood, no matter how hard he kicked. 

As he realized what he was doing there, Remus stopped his assault on the door and leaned back against the wall. 

What was he doing? Losing his temper wouldn't help Sirius, either. What his friend needed now was the reassurance of the people close to him, and he needed to be prepared for the trial this afternoon. And maybe some prayers and a little divine help. But he definitely didn't need his best friend to break his foot on the wood of his front door. Definitely not.

Remus ran his hands over his face and through his quite unruly sandy brown hair in a frustrated gesture. 

Why? Why did they have to catch Sirius? Why now, when they still didn't have any proof that Peter was still alive and that he had been the traitor? The list of witnesses on Sirius' behalf which Dumbledore had given to Fudge was short, but unfortunately it named the only people who could really testify that Sirius was indeed innocent. The only one Dumbledore had not named was Severus Snape, but Remus understood why. 

By now Remus had been told that Fudge knew about the Potions master being a Death Eater, and if Snape had testified at the trial this could have become publicly revealed. And if there was something they really couldn't afford at the moment, then it was losing their spy amongst the Death Eaters. And this didn't even consider the consequences Severus would have to bear if his fellow Death Eaters got to know that he had been spying on them.

Fudge had been perplex at Dumbledore's choice of witnesses, and frankly Remus had to agree that it wasn't much they had to offer for Sirius' support.

He himself would testify on Sirius' behalf, even under Veritaserum. The truth serum didn't necessarily agree with him, during his questioning after Sirius' capture all those years ago he had had enough opportunities for first-hand experiences of how sick and nauseous it made him feel, but for Sirius' sake he'd be more than willing to deal with this little inconvenience. But the testimony of a werewolf didn't count for much, Veritaserum or not.

Remus was sure that Ron and Hermione would say exactly the same that he'd say, but they were still underage teenagers and could not be legally questioned under Veritaserum. Their testimony could be easily declared irrelevant for the judgement, without a truth serum it would most probably useless.

As would be Harry's. People might tend to believe him more than they would believe Ron and Hermione, but Fudge had not let any opportunity to ruin his Boy-Who-Lived bonus during the past year. Remus didn't really know if Harry would be able to convince the judges, especially since Sirius was his godfather. Fudge would do his best to picture it as if Sirius had been influencing the boy.

So it all depended on Dumbledore's presence as his friend's legal representative, and Sirius' own testimony. Dumbledore was highly respected all over the wizarding community, and Sirius would surely testify under Veritaserum. Now if only Dumbledore could stop the people from thinking that Sirius was Voldemort's right hand man who knew enough Dark Magic to escape from Azkaban and to resist the truth potion, then his old friend might have a chance to win.

He might have.

With a sigh, Remus pushed himself off the wall and climbed the stairs to the upper floor of his cottage. Sirius had been living here during the past year, so all the clothing he owned was here in this house, as well.

Remus entered the second room on the right side and could not help but smile. The room practically screamed its owner's name. 

Sirius had always been untidy, and no mater what punishment he had been threatened with throughout the years, nothing and nobody had been able to change that. His mother, James, Peter, Remus himself, Minerva, Lily, so many people had tried to turn Sirius Black into a tidy person and nobody ever succeeded. Remus didn't have any hope left, so he just allowed Sirius to do whatever pleased him as long as his untidiness was limited to Sirius' own room. In fact, he quite enjoyed finding little traces of another inhabitant all over the house, even if it were things he grumpily cleaned away. He had been alone for far too long, he enjoyed Sirius' presence far more than he wanted to admit. 

And that was exactly why he wouldn't let them lose the trial. And if they did…well, then he'd have to think about another way of getting Sirius away from the Dementors before it was too late.

Of course Remus knew that in case Sirius was really found guilty during his trial, every attempt to break him free before he was handed over to the Dementors would make him a searched criminal as well, but Remus was not willing to let them take away his last friend from him. His innocent friend.

Before his anger could boil over again, Remus made his way across the room towards the wardrobe. He carefully avoided stepping onto anything on the floor, which meant he was hopping from one of the few spots of visible floor boards to the next.

In the wardrobe, Remus found a clean set of plain black robes that would be sufficient clothing for the trial. He folded them, put them in a bag and left the room again. On his way down, he stopped in the bathroom and added a comb and, following an instinct he couldn't quite explain, some Pepper-Up and Pain-Numbing potion. After all, he didn't know what shape his friend was in. To be on the safe side, he also added a bottle of disinfectant and some bandages, and downstairs in the kitchen he packed in two large bars of chocolate.

Remus once more looked around in the room and contemplated whether there was anything else he needed to bring, but as he found nothing he left the house and apparated back to the Ministry.

He immediately turned towards the staircase on the backside of the hall and descended into the basement, his only thought being his wish to see Sirius and his hope that he was alright.

The scene at the end of the corridor was still the same it had been when he had left. Dumbledore was still standing in front of Sirius' cell and the five Aurors were still guarding him and the doors. 

Remus handed his wand and the bag with Sirius' clothes and the other supplies over to one of the Aurors, then took his place next to the old headmaster again.

"Anything new?"  
Dumbledore shook his head.  
"No, Remus. It has been surprisingly uneventful since Minister Fudge and you left. Did you bring some clothes?"

Remus nodded.

"Yes, and also a Pepper-Up potion and some other supplies in case he's not in the best of shapes."

"Good, that might be needed."

At that moment, the Auror stepped over to them and handed the bag back to Remus.

"I have to search you for concealed wands or other weapons before I let you into the cell."

Remus immediately thought about that age-old joke about hidden wands and how Sirius would surely have cracked it had he heard that comment right now. But as it would surely only confuse the Aurors if he started grinning now, Remus forced back his smile, raised his arms to his sides and let the Auror do his work. After Dumbledore had been searched as well, the door to Sirius' cell was opened and they were let in.

The cell, like any holding cell, didn't hold any furniture except from the wooden construction on the far off wall that obviously served as a bed. Remus saw the figure of his friend sitting on it, knees drawn up to his chest, and immediately wanted to hurry over, but Dumbledore held him back.

"Wait."

Only then did Remus realize that there was another ward separating Sirius from the side of the room where the door was. He would have run straight into it.

They waited while the two Aurors closed the door and disabled the ward, giving a nod of the head as the sign that now it was safe to cross the room.

Remus didn't even wait until the Auror had finished nodding.

The fact that Sirius had not shown any reaction when they had entered worried him greatly. He went over and sat down beside his friend on the bed.

Sirius was a complete mess. His robe was dusty and dirty, one of his sleeves torn. His hair was dishevelled and not clean, either. But what worried Remus most was the blood on the left side of Sirius' face. It seemed to come from a wound just above his temple that didn't look as if it had been treated in any way.

Remus put a hand on Sirius' shoulder and tried to get his friend's attention.

"Sirius?"

Remus spoke softly, not wanting to startle his friend. Pale blue eyes looked up into his face, and after a moment widened in recognition. Sirius bit his lower lip.

"Remus."

"Yes. I'm here, and so is Albus. We'll help you out of this, don't worry."

As if he suddenly remembered where he was, Sirius dropped his gaze to the floor.

"I'm sorry."  
Remus frowned.

"Whatever for?"  
"That I got careless enough to let them catch me."

Remus closed his eyes and sighed. He should have known that this would come, he should know Sirius well enough to be aware of his self-blaming tendency. He let his hand drop from Sirius' shoulder and rubbed circles across his back, then carefully drew him into a hug.

"It's alright, we'll get you out of here, I promise. But it's important that you don't give up yet, alright? You have to believe that there's still a chance, otherwise you've already lost."

Sirius nodded against Remus' shoulder and after a moment the werewolf drew back a little to have a closer look at Sirius' wound. He held his friend's head firmly in place with one hand and ran the other along the edges of the wound. Sirius winced.

"Has a medi-wizard examined this?"

Sirius made a small, choking sound that somehow resembled a laugh.

"They were so busy with feeding me to the Dementors that somehow nobody thought about calling a medi-wizard. I can't imagine why."

Remus just shook his head, eyes still trained on the wound. At least it had stopped bleeding by now.

"Sarcasm isn't going to help you any, Sirius. You sound like Severus, really."

"Thanks for ruining the last hours of my life by comparing me to that greasy, slimy, obnoxious git of a Slytherin."  
Remus slapped Sirius sharply on the uninjured back of his head.

"I think I said something about not giving up yet. Albus, would you hand me the bag, please?"

Dumbledore had watched the two friends silently, and even now he wordlessly handed over the bag to Remus and then stepped back.

He knew very well that if things went wrong this might be the last moments the two friends had alone with each other, so he stepped aside and let Remus treat Sirius' wound. 

Sirius hissed sharply as Remus pressed a cloth with disinfectant on the wound.

"How in Merlin's name did that happen, Padfoot?"

Sirius winced again.

"I had a little disagreement with one of the Aurors. He wanted to arrest me, I didn't want to be arrested. Somebody stunned me from behind and I guess I knocked my head when I fell."

He shrugged as if being arrested wasn't something as much of a catastrophe as it was for somebody in his position.

"And would you care to tell me how it was possible that you were recognized at all?"

Though Remus didn't speak it out, Sirius knew very well that his friend was asking why he had not been safely disguised in his animagus form.

"It was all an accident, really. I had stopped at this pub for a little rest and maybe something to eat, depending on how irresistible Padfoot's begging look would be, and all of a sudden the chaos started. I don't know, I guess some guys wanted to mug the pub and before I knew what was happening they had drawn their wands and the curses had started to fly."

He shrugged again.

"I couldn't just sit by and wait for it to go over. Somebody must have called the Ministry, though, and when they arrived one of them immediately recognized me. There was a struggle, I got stunned and the next thing I know is I woke up and they brought in a Dementor. I must have passed out again at that point."  
The last sentence came out as a whisper and Sirius lowered his eyes to the floor. Remus squeezed Sirius' shoulder again and searched in the bag for the chocolate he had brought. He handed it over to Sirius and was glad when a slight smile crossed his friend's features.

"I personally think that one doesn't need encounters with Dementors for a nice little chocolate feast, but at the moment you look as if you need it."

Sirius tore off the wrapping paper and bit off a large chunk of the chocolate. As soon as he had swallowed it, some of the colour returned to his abnormally pale face.

"They're still close, aren't they?"

Remus nodded.

"Yes, behind another door on this corridor. But don't worry about that now, alright? They're locked up behind a magically warded door, and as long as Albus is standing vigil in your doorway nobody will dare to let them lose."

Sirius looked up from the last piece of chocolate he had been eying.

"Albus is what?"

"Well, since he received word about what happened to you, he's been standing in your doorway, glaring at everybody who does as much as approach it. Under any other circumstances, it would be a hilarious sight."

Sirius just shook his head.

"You're all making too much of a fuss just because of me. Just because I was stupid enough to get caught."

"You listen to me now, alright? You've managed three years on the run without getting caught, that counts for something. I know that you've always did your best to stay hidden. I know that you've been as carefully as you could. It has happened and we can't change that now, but we'll get you out.

Albus has stopped them from feeding you to the Dementors, and he has made Fudge agree to give you a trial, so things aren't as bad as they might look.

And now finally hold your head still, otherwise it only takes me longer to look after that thick skull of yours."

He handed Sirius the other bar of chocolate and had to suppress a laugh at the look in his friend's eyes.

"How, short of pointing his wand at Fudge's throat, did Albus manage to make that man give me a trial?"

Remus laughed.

"He chose to take the other infallible method: challenged Fudge's pride. Fudge is so convinced of your guilt that he considers the trial to be an ideal publicity event that will ruin Albus' reputation once and for all. He's overly confident, that should work to our advantage.

You'll get your trial this afternoon, so Albus still needs to talk to you about all necessary procedures."

Remus looked over Sirius' shoulder, but only to find that Dumbledore was gone. Only the two Aurors guarding the door were still in the room. Sirius followed his gaze.

"Where did he go?"

Remus shrugged.

"Probably went to fetch you something to eat. Here, drink this before he comes back."

He pulled out the Pepper-Up and the Pain-Numbing potion and handed the two small bottles to Sirius.

"Better not to drink those on a full stomach, I don't think it would make a good impression on the judges if you got sick in the middle of the court session."

He gave Sirius a smile which the other man returned, just that it didn't reach Sirius' eyes. Sirius obediently took the two potions and swallowed them.

"Better?"

Sirius nodded.

"A bit."

"Right. Now we only need to make you look a bit more presentable. I brought you some clothes."

Remus pulled out the robes and handed them over to Sirius. Upon undressing his torn and dirty robes, Remus found another couple of scratches and smaller hex marks which he treated as best as he could with the limited supplies he had brought, then he helped the still somewhat stiff and unsteady Sirius into the clean robe and handed him the comb. He even managed to convince one of the Aurors to perform a simple cleansing charm on Sirius' hair and face so that he'd look more like a human being in court.

After all of that was done, Sirius and Remus sank back on the makeshift bed in the cell and stared at the opposite wall in companionable silence. It was Sirius who eventually broke it.

"Remus?"

Remus turned his head and looked at Sirius, but his friend continued to stare at the far off wall.

"Yes?"  
"If I ask you something, will you give me an honest answer?"

Remus sighed. He could guess very well what Sirius' question would be, and as much as he wanted to tell Sirius that everything would be okay again, he didn't want to lie to him. Sirius had earned his honesty, no matter if he didn't like it.

"Yes, sure."

Sirius took a deep breath and for a moment seemed to be searching for the right words.

"Do you think there is a chance I win this trial today?"

Remus leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling.

"I think your chances are small, but you definitely have a chance. Though I'd have liked it better if we already had proof that Peter is still alive, that would help us a lot.

The problem is that everybody out there in the courtroom has spent the past fifteen years thinking of you as a deranged killer with an immense knowledge in the Dark Arts. And as long as they believe that, I don't know how much your own testimony will count, Veritaserum or not. 

And we don't have much more. I will testify for you, under truth serum if necessary, but I'm a werewolf. You know how people think about that. Ron and Hermione are still too young to be questioned under Veritaserum, and though Harry still is everybody's Golden Boy, Fudge has done his best in the past year to scrape his good reputation.

Our big bonus is that we got Dumbledore on your side."

But Sirius didn't seem to even have heard the last sentence. He was staring wide-eyed at Remus.

"Harry? What's Harry got to do with this?"

Remus shrugged.  
"Well, Dumbledore named him as a witness for you. After all, he was present in the Shrieking Shack that night two years ago. He is one of the few who have seen that Peter is still alive. And he is your godson, I'd think he should have a vital interest in this trial."

Sirius shook his head.

"I don't like the idea of him getting involved in it. He doesn't like to be dragged into publicity, and there is bound to be press present during the trial. If that Skeeter woman starts another campaign against him, his next school year will be hell again."

Remus put a hand on Sirius' shoulder and waited until the other man looked at him.

"Sirius, let's just assume that we keep Harry out of this and he doesn't turn up today. Do you think he'd be delighted to get the news of your innocence or worse, of your execution, from the Daily Prophet?"

Remus knew that his choice of words was harsh, but somehow he needed to get Sirius' attention.

"Sirius, Harry cares for you. Besides all the help he might be able to provide, I'm sure he would want to be here. He'd want to see you, would want to show that he supports you."

Slowly, Sirius nodded.

"You're right. I might not like it, but I guess you're right."

Both men turned their heads at the sound of somebody knocking on the cell door. The Aurors raised their wands and opened it up to let Albus Dumbledore into the room. In his hands, he carried a bag that radiated the delicious smell of freshly cooked food.

"Ah Sirius, I see Remus did a good job in patching you up again. I brought you something to eat, though it's only the Ministry Canteen Menu."

He checked the time on an old watch he pulled out of his pocket.

"We have slightly less than an hour before the trial starts, and the two of us still need to go through the procedures. The Minister was so kind to allow us some time alone for that purpose."

Remus nodded and got up from where he had been sitting. Sirius followed suit and for a moment the two men just looked at each other. Forcing himself to smile, Remus pulled Sirius into a hug once more.

"I'll see you in the courtroom, then. Don't let them bring you down Padfoot, alright?"  
Sirius nodded into Remus' shoulder.

"Remus, if…if things go wrong later, promise you'll take care of Harry."  
He withdrew from the embrace and looked Remus in the eyes.

"I don't think he'd take it too well, just take care that he's alright."  
Remus nodded.  
"I Promise."  
He playfully punched his fist against Sirius' chest.

"See you later, Sirius. Take care."

"Yeah, you too."

With a last glance at his old friend, Remus turned around and left Sirius' cell.  
  



	2. Truths

**Chapter One: Truths**

Fifty minutes later, Remus found himself in front of the side-door to the Ministry's biggest courtroom. He had been standing in front of the door to Sirius' cell until Dumbledore had come out again, but while the old headmaster had decided to remain with Sirius until he arrived safely in the courtroom, both had agreed that it might be better if Remus awaited Ron, Hermione and Harry in front of the courtroom and told them what had happened to bring Sirius into this dilemma.

Ron and Hermione had arrived shortly after Remus had come upstairs, but Harry was still nowhere to be seen. Under any other circumstances, this would not have really worried Remus, but today it did.

A Ministry official had been sent to fetch Harry from Privet Drive at the same time when Ron and Hermione had been notified, but so far nobody had shown up and told them anything about Harry's whereabouts. This and the fact that neither Ron nor Hermione had been in contact with Harry since they had parted at King's Cross a couple of weeks ago was enough to worry Remus. 

Obviously both Ron and Hermione had sent him letters which had returned unopened. And though Ron said that this had happened before and could very well only be a sign that Harry's muggle uncle was trying to stop Harry's contacts to the wizarding world, Remus had a very bad gut feeling about this. And after all, his gut feeling had already proven itself to be true once today.

But before he could do anything about it, the side door opened and he, Ron and Hermione were bid into the courtroom where a bench in the front of the room had been reserved for them. Only two people were already sitting there: Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape.

Snape sneered as Remus sat down beside him, and from his left side he heard Ron mumble something about being glad not to sit next to the 'slimy git'.

"Come to enjoy the show, Severus?"

Remus didn't even look at the other man as he said those words. There had been a time when the two of them had gotten along quite well with each other, before Remus had become closer with Sirius, James and Peter when they had discovered his secret. Long before Sirius had sent Snape down the passage under the Willow. And though this event had destroyed the last remnants of friendship that might have been still there, Remus didn't hate the sour Potions master like Sirius did. He held an enormous amount of respect for the Snape and especially for what he was doing to provide Dumbledore and the Order with information about Voldemort. 

Remus never had had the kind of personal vendetta Snape seemed to be having with Sirius (or the other way around, that was hard to tell with the two of them), but there was an enormous distance between the two men. Respect was one thing, but that didn't have to mean that they enjoyed each other's presence.

Snape sneered and also kept his eyes trained on the far off wall.

"Wouldn't want to miss it for anything, Lupin."

"I'm sure Sirius will appreciate that."

Snape snorted.

"I don't think Black appreciates anything at the moment other than not being fed to the Dementors. Do you expect anybody else?"

Remus was slightly startled at the sudden change of topic, and especially at the fact that Snape seemed to have realized the empty seat next to Hermione without even looking once. The rest of the room was filled with spectators and members of the press who were all craning their necks to see who exactly was sitting there in the front row. Remus quickly turned his attention back to Snape before the constant whispering and the clicking of the cameras could make him really angry. It seemed that Fudge had used the time since he had let himself get challenged into granting Sirius a trial with calling each and every newspaper and wizarding network station and inform them of it. There were nearly as many reporters present as other spectators.

"Harry hasn't arrived yet."

Snape nodded and sneered again.

"Of course, I should have known that Potter would be the one to arrive with a special entrance."

Remus wanted to reply something, but at that moment the side door to the courtroom opened and the judges entered.

As was common, there were three judges who would judge the case together, each of their votes having the same weight. Everybody in the room rose at their entrance while the court usher announced them.

"Today we try the case AC-12/822, the wizarding community against Sirius Black. Judges for the case are Judge Bernell and Judge Sanderson, Judge in charge is Judge Reynolds."

The judges, a stern looking woman and two middle-aged men, took their positions at the head table and everybody sat down again at their sign.

Just then, the door on the other side of the room opened and Sirius was led into the room by four Aurors who had all drawn their wands. They led Sirius over to the table that was reserved for the defendant and then took up position on chairs behind him. As soon as Sirius entered the room, the audience began to whisper excitedly. Albus Dumbledore was last to arrive and he confidently sat down next to Sirius.

Judge Reynolds nodded and gestured the prosecutor, an elderly small man with thinning white hair, to start. The man got up and looked imploringly at the judges, then around the audience which mainly consisted of hurriedly alerted news-reporters. When he finally began to speak, his voice was a tad bit high-pitched and scratchy, just as if he was nervous.

"The prosecution accuses Sirius Black of the following charges: Association with the Dark Lord, murder in the cases of the twelve muggles Mrs. Cassandra Arden, Mr. Steven Dasher, Mrs. Charlene Dasher, Ms. Emma Fisher, Ms. Sarah Fulton, Mr. David Masters, Mrs. Sondra Masters, Ms. Elizabeth Masters, Mr. Nicholas McPhee, Ms. Irene Porter, Mr. Gregory Summers and Mr. Tyler Walters as well as in the case of the wizard Peter Pettigrew. Furthermore, we charge Sirius Black with breakout from a legal institution and attempted murder on Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley, as well as committed bodily harm on Mr. Ronald Weasley." 

Ron drew in a sharp breath while the prosecutor sat down again. 

"Needn't I have pressed charges against Sirius for him being accused of trying to murder me?"

Remus looked at him and shrugged his shoulders. 

"I really don't know, Ron. But I guess they're trying to accuse him of everything they can think of. Once you tell them what really happened, I don't think the attempted murder or the injury will be a serious problem. At least I hope so."

Both looked up when Judge Reynolds spoke again.

"What does the defence have to say to those charges?"  
Dumbledore rose gracefully from his seat.

"We will prove today that all those accusations are untrue and not to be upheld. Sirius Black has never been associated with Voldemort, he is not responsible for the death of any of the twelve killed muggles, he is also not responsible for the death of Peter Pettigrew because Mr. Pettigrew is not dead at all. Furthermore, Mr. Black did never attempt to kill Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley, and while Mr. Weasley was indeed injured during their first encounter, this injury was completely unintentional on Mr. Black's part. And, last but not least, because Mr. Black is innocent of all the above charges, his breakout from Azkaban prison is not a crime he can be charged of, as his imprisonment there was unjust in the first place."

Dumbledore sat down again and the gathered crowd started murmuring upon his words. Albus Dumbledore was highly respected in the wizarding community, and the fact that he did not only defend Sirius Black, but also seemed to be convinced of his complete innocence, was indeed something worth talking about.

Judge Reynolds hit his table with his wand and silenced the crowd with the loud sounds this evoked. 

"Silence. Prosecution, please call your first witness."

The prosecutor, the white-haired wizard named Stevens, got up from his chair and nodded.

"The prosecution calls Sirius Black."

Remus closed his eyes and sent a fervent prayer heavenwards. Dumbledore said something into Sirius' ear, and after nodding shortly Sirius rose and allowed the Aurors to lead him over towards the witnesses' chair. He sat down and two Aurors took up position on either side of him, wands ready at hand.

Judge Reynolds watched the whole procedure with a clinical interest. When Sirius was seated, he began.

"Mr. Black, you are aware of the charges pressed against you?"

Sirius nodded.

"Yes, I am."

"You are aware of your right as the defendant to refuse giving testimony?"

Again, Sirius nodded.

"Yes."

"Do you want to make usage of that right?"

This time, Sirius shook his head.

"No, I want to testify."

Judge Reynolds nodded.

"Are you willing to testify under Veritaserum?"

"Yes, I am."

"Very well. Court usher, please bring in the doctor in charge."

A Ministry official left the room through the side door and returned a short time later with a tall, young woman in tow. The woman also wore official Ministry robes and a name tag that identified her as Dr. Susan Branding. She pulled a small vial of clear liquid from the medical bag she was carrying and handed it over to the judge so that he could identify the seal. Then she took it back and broke the seal, verifying the Veritaserum with a quick tip of her wand against the vial. The liquid turned purple for a short moment.

Judge Reynolds nodded at her.

"Thank you, Dr. Branding. If you'd administer the serum now, please."

Seemingly un-scared of the 'deranged and dangerous killer' Sirius was said to be, Dr. Branding approached him and measured three drops of Veritaserum with a pipette. Sirius obediently opened his mouth and let the doctor pour the truth serum onto his tongue. 

Remus smiled as he saw Sirius make a face at the brew's taste. Snape sneered again. Remus guessed that if Snape had prepared the serum, Sirius would have like the taste even less.

Within moments, the truth serum took effect. Sirius' eyes glassed over and Remus thought he saw as lightly nauseated expression on his friend's face, something he could understand quite well.

The judge began Sirius' official hearing.

"State your full name, date and place of birth for the records, please."

Sirius immediately answered.

"Sirius Black, October 24th 1960, Edinburgh, Scotland."

Reynolds nodded and gestured prosecutor Stevens to start the questioning.

"Mr. Black, is it true that on November 1st 1981, in the early morning hours you were present at the explosion that took place in Daubing Street in muggle London? The explosion that killed the aforementioned persons?"

Sirius nodded.

"Yes."

Remus frowned. This was indeed a strange way to begin Sirius' questioning, and suddenly his bad gut feeling was back again.

"Is it also true that when the Ministry Aurors arrived at Daubing Street you were the only person still alive at the scene?"

"Yes."

Stevens got up from his seat and began to pace in front of Sirius' chair. Sirius didn't move, but also never let the prosecutor out of his eyes.

"Is it true that you were immediately arrested, charged with murder in thirteen cases and sentenced to prison?"

Again, Sirius nodded.

"Yes."

"What is going on there?" Hermione whispered to Ron and Remus. "Why does he ask Sirius those questions? They're only the half-truth and make him look like he's guilty."

Remus nodded.

"I guess that's exactly what they want to achieve."

The questioning continued.

"Is it also true, Mr. Black, that you were found guilty of association with the Dark Lord?"

Sirius clenched his teeth in obvious anger, but the truth serum did not leave him any other choice but to answer.

"Yes."

Stevens nodded.

"Mr. Black, please tell the court where you have spent the time between November 1981 and June 1993."

"I've been imprisoned in Azkaban."

"And what happened on June 14th 1993?"  
"I escaped from Azkaban."

Stevens smiled smugly and leaned against his desk.

"After you broke out of Azkaban, Mr. Black, where did you go? What was the first place you were heading to?"  
"Hogwarts."

Some loud gasps could be heard from the ranks of spectators. Many of them had children at Hogwarts and the thought that an Azkaban escapee had been deliberately trying to get to the school came as quite a shock for them.

"Is it true, Mr. Black, that after you arrived at Hogwarts, you tried to break into Gryffindor tower twice, the first time deliberately damaging the entrance-painting when it didn't want to let you pass?"  
"Yes."

"Is it also true that you were found in front of Mr. Ronald Weasley's bed, carrying a large knife, during the second time you broke into the tower? And that only the scream of the woken up Mr. Weasley stopped you from doing what you had come to do?"

Sirius nodded.

"Yes."  
And, Mr. Black, is it true that after you were arrested nearly a year after you had broken out of prison, that you once more evaded your capture by breaking out of the Hogwarts office in which you were being held?"

"Yes."  
Anybody else might not have realized it, but Remus knew Sirius long enough to recognize his facial expression as one of barely withheld fury. Sirius too had realized by now what the prosecutor was trying to do, and he didn't like it at all. Under any other circumstances Sirius would long ago have given up his calm demeanour, but right now he could not afford to lose his temper. So far, it still worked and Remus' admiration for his friend's self restraint grew by the minute.

"And is it finally correct, that you spent the time since that escape from Hogwarts, two years, on the run from the authorities, evading arrest time and time again, until you were captured this very morning?"

Again, Sirius nodded.

"Yes."

Stevens nodded and could not hide another smug grin.

"No more questions. Your witness."  
Dumbledore calmly got up from his chair and walked over until he stood close to Sirius. 

"Now Mr. Black, I think we need to complete the information which Mr. Stevens has drawn from you a little. We already know that you have been present in the street where the explosion took place in November 1981. But what we don't know is why you have been there that day. Could you tell us the precise circumstances that surrounded the death of Mr. James and Mrs. Lily Potter on October 31st 1981?"

Sirius was about to start speaking when Stevens jumped off his chair.

"Objection! The Potters' death is not related to the case which is currently tried here. The question is irrelevant."

Dumbledore shook his head.

"I assure you that the connection between the death of Mr. and Mrs. Potter and the explosion in the street is most important for this case."  
Judge Reynolds looked at his two colleagues, then he nodded shortly.

"Objection overruled. Mr. Black, please answer the question."  
Stevens grimaced and sat back down in his chair.

"What was your relation to the Potter family, Mr. Black?"  
"James was my best friend, we had known each other since our early childhood. After graduation we went to Auror training together. I was James' best man when he married Lily and I'm their only child's godfather."

"Mr. Black, is it true that in the course of 1981 James Potter and his family was in danger of becoming a target to Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters?"  
A collective gasp followed Dumbledore's mention of the Dark Lord's name and Reynolds had to silence the courtroom with another knock of his wand against his table.

"Professor Dumbledore, I must ask you to call the Dark Lord by the name of You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named while in this court. Not everybody is so bold to call him by the name you just used, and certainly not everybody is comfortable in hearing this name."

Dumbledore nodded his consent.

"Then, Mr. Black, is it true that James Potter was being targeted by You-Know-Who during the year of 1981?"

Sirius nodded.

"Yes. James had climbed the career ladder in the Auror department quite quickly after he joined, and in January 1981 he and his team discovered a large Death Eater hideout near Birmingham. Many Death Eaters of the inner circle were arrested, and ever since that day James was one of the Dark Lord's primary targets."

While Sirius told this, Remus was indeed quite glad that Harry had not shown up yet. Hearing his parents' last months of life was certainly something he didn't need to, not in a courtroom at least.

"Why was James Potter not able to, well, to just go into hiding?"  
Sirius sighed.  
"He did, but wherever he, Lily and Harry went, it only took a couple of weeks at the most until the Death Eaters had found them again. Somebody was passing on information about them, and it was somebody close to them. One of their friends."

Dumbledore nodded.

"And in that situation the Potter family decided to perform the Fidelius Charm upon my suggestion, isn't that right?"  
"Yes."

"Tell us, Mr. Black, who was supposed to be their Secret Keeper?"

"I was."

Another gasp from the audience interrupted what Sirius had been about to say. Of course everybody knew how James and Lily Potter had died, and from what Sirius had just told them it looked as if their murderer was sitting right in front of them.

Remus tensed unconsciously, and his left hand moved towards his wand. 

Judge Reynolds silenced the crowd again before Sirius could continue.

"I was supposed to be their Secret Keeper. James didn't ask me to do it, I offered him to do it. I knew he trusted me. But then, two days before the charm was performed, I went over to their hiding place and suggested James to switch to Peter Pettigrew instead."

Dumbledore nodded.  
"And why did you do that?"

Sirius bit his lower lip for a moment before he continued.

"Because I didn't fully trust myself. I would have never given them away willingly, but I just didn't know if the Death Eaters wouldn't be able to torture it out of me. It was just so obvious that I would be the Secret Keeper. So I thought if the Death Eaters were searching for me, making Peter the Secret Keeper would be the perfect decoy. Because even if they caught me, they would not be able to get anything out of me because I would not have known anything. Peter would never be suspected and James and Lily would be safe.

I told James and Lily about it and in the end they agreed."

"So, do I get this right, you have never been the Secret Keeper of James and Lily Potter?"  
Sirius shook his head.

"No, I haven't been. Peter was."

Stevens jumped off his chair again.

"Objection! I can only repeat that this is completely irrelevant for the charges laid against Sirius Black today. This has nothing to do with the explosion and the deaths he caused!"

Judge Reynolds shook his head.

"Objection overruled. But, Professor Dumbledore, you'd better come to the point now."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Of course. Mr. Black, please tell the court what happened on the evening of October 31st and in the morning of November 1st that led to the aforementioned explosion."

Remus closed his eyes. He had been around Sirius for slightly less than a year now, and during all this time his old friend had flat out refused to talk about what Dumbledore had just asked him. Sirius didn't like thinking about it, let alone talk about it. He had blocked out every of Remus' attempts to take away his guilt for what had happened, and Remus was fairly sure that this was not the best of situations in which to talk about it for the first time. But there was nothing he could do to change that right now.

"On Halloween evening I wanted to check on Peter in his hiding place again, but when I arrived there Peter was nowhere to be seen. There were also no signs of a struggle and suddenly I had the bad feeling that something was not right. I took my motorbike and went to Godric's Hollow, that's where James and Lily were hiding, but I was too late. The house was in ruins when I arrived there, with the Dark Mark in the sky above it."  
Sirius stopped for a moment and bit his lower lip again. His chin was trembling and Remus was sure he was close to crying. He didn't know whether anybody else in the room realized this, whether they even paid that much attention to what Sirius was feeling. After all, they were used to seeing him as a deranged killer for so many years now, that wasn't the kind of person who was normally associated with emotions about the ones whom he killed. But Remus knew that Sirius was far from feeling good or confident at the moment, and he also knew that if Sirius was this close to breaking down and cry, things were serious. He had hardly ever seen Sirius cry before, not in all those years he knew him.

After a moment, Sirius continued.

"James was lying where the front door had been. He looked as if he was just asleep, but his eyes were open and his glasses were broken. I…I don't know, I think I've not been in the best of shapes then. I remember that I shook James and yelled at him to wake up, I don't know for how long. 

When I…when I searched the rest of the house, I found Lily in what remained of the nursery. She was lying next to Harry's crib. I wanted to take her out to James, I don't really know why, I just thought they should be together in all this mess, they were always together if possible and I thought they wouldn't want to be apart. I guess I wasn't in a state to think clearly at that time. And then I heard Harry cry. Harry was alive, I didn't know how and why, but he was alive. I'm his godfather, I had promised James to take care of him should something happen to James and Lily, and so I wanted to take Harry with me. 

I was trying to calm down Harry when Hagrid arrived."  
"You're talking about Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper?"

Again, Sirius nodded.

"Yes. He said that you had asked him to take Harry to his relatives. I didn't want to give Harry to him, after all I was his godfather and James and Lily had not wanted him to live with those muggle relatives of his, but in the end I gave in. I handed Harry to Hagrid and told him to use my bike to get there. 

I…I wasn't really thinking clearly, I guess. I wanted to go after Peter. He had been the Secret Keeper, there was no way the Death Eaters could have found James and Lily if he had not given them away. Peter had been the spy and I planned on finding and paying him back for it."

"What was your intention for Mr. Pettigrew once you had found him?"

"I wanted to kill him."  
Again, the crowd gasped. Stevens jumped off his chair again.

"Objection! So far, this questioning had brought no new insight into the case. Black had the intention to kill Pettigrew, and so he did. What is this all about?"  
Dumbledore raised his hand.

"Just one more moment of patience, please."  
Judge Reynolds didn't seem convinced, but he nodded nevertheless.

"Objection overruled. Continue."

"What happened when you found Mr. Pettigrew, Mr. Black?"  
"It took me the entire night to track him down, and early in the morning I finally managed to. I cornered him in a street in muggle London with the sole intention of killing him, but before I could do anything he had started shouting for everybody to hear that I had betrayed James and Lily, and how could I, and all of a sudden he blew up the street."

"So you want to say that it was Mr. Pettigrew who caused the explosion?"

"Yes. He had hidden his wand behind his back, and he blew up the street before I even realized what he was doing. He cut off his finger so that it would look as if he had blown up along with everything else, caused the explosion and escaped. It was so brilliant, the perfect plan. I would be blamed for everything, just because I had been too blind to see who the traitor had been. Small, talent-less Peter Pettigrew, I should have known. He had always been attracted by those who were more powerful than he."

Stevens gestured Sirius to stop.

"Mr. Black, if Mr. Pettigrew would have caused the explosion, how could he have escaped? There were witnesses around, but other than you they haven't seen any living human being in the street after it blew up. Pettigrew could not have escaped unnoticed."

Sirius looked at Stevens and shook his head.

"Peter escaped through the gutter. He's an illegal animagus, in the form of a rat."

"What?"

Steven's face turned deep red.

"That can't be true. There's something wrong with the Veritaserum. One moment you call Pettigrew talent-less, then next you say he became an animagus, something which is very difficult to achieve?"

Sirius nodded.

"We helped him, James and me."

Judge Reynolds raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want to say with this, Mr. Black? What is behind this story?"

Sirius sighed and glanced apologetically into Remus' direction. Remus smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging way and tried to ignore the burning looks of McGonagall to his right. If there was something he didn't want to at the moment, then it was facing their former Transfiguration teacher while Sirius explained how they had achieved this illegal and highly dangerous Transformation during their fifth year, straight under her nose.

"At school, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and me shared a dormitory with Remus Lupin. In our second year we found out that he was a werewolf. And…well, because his transformations were always so difficult for him and there was no way we could help him while we were being human, we searched for a way to become animals. It took us three years of research and failed attempts, but in our fifth year we finally managed the transformation and became animagi."

Remus bit his lip, he didn't dare to look up. Especially not to his right. After some moments, he dared a glance and met the face of a smug looking Snape and a completely confused McGonagall. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water and stared between Sirius and Remus and back again. Remus scratched his head and mumbled a 'sorry' into her direction, but this only made her shake her head even more.

"You are an animagus, Mr. Black? And Mr. Pettigrew was one, too? Can you prove that?"

"I can prove that I am an animagus."

Reynolds eyed him for a moment, then nodded.

"Go ahead, then. But only change and then back again. One wrong movement, and the Aurors will immobilize you immediately."

Sirius nodded and got up. Within the blink of an eye, he changed into Padfoot and back again. Once more, the crowd gasped as suddenly the enormous black dog appeared where Sirius had been sitting. When Sirius had changed back, Remus risked another glance into the direction of McGonagall, and this time he had to stifle a laugh despite the seriousness of the situation as he saw the look of barely concealed pride on her face. Well, Sirius had always been one of her most talented students, so Remus guessed a bit of pride was in order here.

He only turned his head back towards the other side of the room when the commotion had been silenced and the questioning continued.

Dumbledore walked up and down as if he was inwardly summarizing what had just been said.

"To sum it up, Mr. Black, is it correct that you have never been the Potters' secret keeper, but Mr. Pettigrew was, that he betrayed them to the Dark Lord and that he was the one who blew up the street and killed all those muggles when you cornered him there?"  
"Yes, that's the truth."

"And you know that Mr. Pettigrew is not dead as we had all thought because…?"

"Because I have seen him. He lived disguised as a pet rat for the twelve years following the Potters' death. When Minister Fudge made his annual visit to Azkaban in the summer of 1993, I asked him for the paper he was carrying. And on the front page was a photo of the Weasley family, they had won some sort of prize I think. And on the shoulder of the youngest son sat Peter, in his animagus form. I immediately recognized him. The article said that the boy would return to Hogwarts after summer, where Harry was.

A couple of days later, I broke out of prison in my animagus form. I headed for Hogwarts to finish what I had failed to do all those years ago. I could not allow Peter to also harm Harry, not after I had already failed James and Lily."  
Dumbledore nodded.

"So your breakout of Azkaban had nothing to do with Dark Magic?"

Sirius snorted.

"No. I don't know any Dark Magic other than the little that is demonstrated in later Hogwarts years and in Auror training. It was solely my animagus form that helped me keep my mind and escape without the Dementors noticing."

"And you tried to break into Hogwarts and there into Gryffindor Tower because you were searching for Mr. Pettigrew there?"  
"Yes."  
"You did not intend to hurt Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley?"

Sirius vigorously shook his head.

"No. I would never hurt Harry, and I also did never intend to hurt Ron."

"One last question, Mr. Black. Did you ever see Mr. Pettigrew after you broke out of Azkaban?"  
Sirius nodded.

"Yes, I did. Slightly less than a year after I escaped I finally managed to get hold of the rat. That was the night when I unintentionally broke Ron's leg. Ron, Harry and Hermione were present when Remus and I forced Peter back into his human form. They have all seen that he is alive. But unfortunately it was a full moon night, and after we set off towards Hogwarts castle again Remus transformed. I changed into my animagus form and tried to hold him away from the children, and during this commotion Peter changed back into a rat and escaped."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Let us summarize everything that you've said so far, Mr. Black. And I must ask the judges to remember that Mr. Black is currently under the influence of Veritaserum. It is not possible for him to lie."

Dumbledore turned back towards Sirius.

"Mr. Black, are you or have you ever been associated with You-Know-Who in any way?"

"No."

"Have you been the Secret Keeper of James and Lily Potter?"

"No."

"Who has been their Secret Keeper?"  
"Peter Pettigrew."  
"Who caused the explosion in Daubing Street on November 1st 1981?"  
"Peter Pettigrew."

"Who caused the deaths of the twelve muggles that died during this explosion?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Is Peter Pettigrew dead?"

"No. He faked his death."

"Was harming Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley or any other student or teacher for that matter your intention when you were heading for Hogwarts in summer of 1993?"

"No. I wanted to find Peter Pettigrew and stop him from harming Harry."

"What would you do in case this court declares you innocent, Mr. Black? What would be your first actions?"

Sirius shrugged.

"I'd get Harry out of his relatives' care and bring him to my family's house once it's shaped up a bit. He needs somebody to look after him, somebody who really cares."

Dumbledore nodded.  
"That would be all. Thank you, Mr. Black."

He turned around and walked back towards his desk, but after half the distance he turned around as if he had forgotten something.

"Just one more question, Mr. Black. Why haven't you made the same confession under Veritaserum after you were arrested in 1981? It would have been your right to do so during your trial."

Sirius' jaw set into a firm and angry line.

"I was never given a trial. I was arrested, charged and carted off to Azkaban without seeing a judge, a courtroom or Veritaserum at all. Barty Crouch senior took care of that."

Dumbledore nodded while the courtroom broke into loud murmuring again.  
"Thank you Mr. Black."

Judge Reynolds looked thunderstruck for a short moment, then he leafed through the files that lay in front of him, as if searching for a confirmation of what Sirius had said in his last sentence. The look on his face showed clearly that he didn't believe anybody would be sent to Azkaban without being given a proper trial. It took him some moments until he had made a decision on how to go on. He called in the doctor again to administer the counter-potion to the Veritaserum and the Aurors led Sirius back to his desk.

As he sat down again, Sirius realized that he had started shaking. He knew what side effects Veritaserum could have, but so far he had never had the chance to experience any of this first hand. Dumbledore helped him to sit down and as soon as he was firmly seated in his chair, Sirius buried his head in his hands and tried to block everything out.

His testimony had left him exhausted and drained, at the moment he didn't even really care what would happen to him next, he only wished that this trial was over as soon as possible. He wanted to curl up somewhere and rock himself to sleep, and not wake up until absolutely necessary. 

A distinct part of his brain realized that Remus was being called as a witness, he heard his friend's voice answer questions but he didn't understand the meaning of what was said. Sirius didn't have the strength left to focus on anything other than the pattern of the wood on the table in front of him.

After Remus had finished speaking Hermione was called up and later Ron, but Sirius didn't look up once. He closed his eyes and just focused on breathing. In – out. In – out. In – out. How many times would he have to breathe in before all this was over? Before he could either go home or before they would send him back to the Dementors?

"Harry Potter."

Sirius' head jerked up.

Harry? What about Harry? Oh, Harry was being called for his testimony, now he remembered. Well, he had not seen the kid for more than three months, he was looking forward to seeing Harry even if it was under these circumstances. And maybe it was the last time he'd ever see him, so Sirius better not let it pass unused. But when Sirius looked up, he could not find a trace of Harry anywhere in the courtroom. Instead, a Ministry official made his way up to the judges' table and spoke to the three judges in a low voice for some moments. A surprised frown crossed judge Reynolds' face, but then he nodded and the Ministry official left the room again. Reynolds gestured Dumbledore and Stevens to his desk and spoke to them, obviously telling what he had just been told by the Ministry official.

After some moments, Dumbledore sat down next to Sirius again.

"What is wrong, Albus? Where is Harry?"  
Dumbledore turned towards him.

"A Ministry official was sent to fetch him for the trial, but Harry's relatives stated that he's too sick to attend."

"Sick?"  
Sirius was immediately worried and sat up straight in his chair. 

"What do they mean, sick? What's wrong with Harry?"

"Calm down, Sirius. They said it's just a flu bug, but that he has quite a fever and it would be better for him not to leave his bed today. And as he would have only confirmed Ron's and Hermione's testimony, having him here is not absolutely necessary."

Sirius nodded slowly, but obviously Dumbledore's words had not managed to calm Sirius' worries. Not at all.

Judge Reynolds addressed Dumbledore again.

"Is there something you want to say before we retreat to find our judgement?"

Dumbledore nodded and got up.

"I just wanted to ask one thing of you: When you think about your judgement, don't think about everything that you might have heard about Sirius Black during the past fifteen years. Just think about what you heard this afternoon. Keep in mind that Mr. Black was under the influence of Veritaserum, he could not have lied even if he had wanted to. What he said was the truth: He was never associated to You-Know-Who, he has not caused the explosion in Daubing Street and he never intended to harm anybody, not the twelve muggles that were killed, and neither any Hogwarts student or teacher after he escaped from Azkaban.

Sirius Black didn't commit any crime, nevertheless he was imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years without a trial. It's in your hands today to give back his freedom to an innocent man, something we all take for granted, but Mr. Black's case has shown how quickly it can be taken away from us.

Mr. Black is innocent of all the charges laid against him, as all testimonies we've heard today have proven, another one even under Veritaserum, just like Mr. Black himself. If you just keep that in mind, you will find that there is no other possibility than to declare him innocent and allow him to finally take care of his godson. Thank you."

Dumbledore stared imploringly at the judge and then sat down again. Only when he put a hand on Sirius' shoulder did the other man focus his gaze on his former headmaster and mentor again.

"What? I'm sorry, I…I wasn't paying attention."

Dumbledore nodded, a small smile playing around his lips.

"Yes, I could see that, Sirius. I said that there will be a break until the judges have made their decision."  
Sirius frowned.

"It's…it's already over? That's been it?"  
Dumbledore nodded calmly.

"Yes, Sirius. That was all we could do. Except from Harry, we've heard everybody testify who has seen proof of your innocence. Now we can only wait and hope that the judges come to the right decision."

Sirius shook his head, again and again.

"It…Albus, that can't have been all. What I the judges…what if they don't believe me? What if they don't believe Remus, Ron and Hermione?"

All throughout the day, Sirius had been able to remain relatively calm. Extremely calm for a man in his situation. But now suddenly the realization that he was only minutes away from the final judgement set in. In a couple of minutes, those judges would come back, and then they would put an end on his existence as a fugitive. Either they would declare him innocent, or they would hand him over to the Dementors. Either way it would all be over soon, and not knowing what end this day would take scared the wits out of Sirius. 

His heartbeat quickened and his breathing accelerated beyond his ability to fight it, and he was sure that by now even the last bit of colour had left his face. Again and again, Sirius tried to dry his sweaty palms on his robe.

Even Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder was not able to calm him.

"How long?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"I can't really tell, Sirius. That depends on how much time each judge needs to come to a decision."

"Then I should maybe say my final goodbyes. I don't think I have that much time left under those circumstances."

"Sirius, have a little faith."

Sirius shook his head and grimaced mirthlessly. 

"Not in the Ministry. That is something I lost when they locked me up without a trial all those years ago."

He suddenly looked around the room, his eyes wide open.  
"Remus, where is Remus? I need to speak with Remus again."  
Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder gently.  
"Sirius, Remus is here, but you can't speak to him just now. Calm down, please."

Sirius shook his head, but remained silent. He couldn't quite explain it, but he felt the need to talk to Remus again. Earlier, in his cell, he had not realized that this might have been the last conversation they would ever have. There was so much he still needed to tell him, so much that had remained unsaid in the short time since he had been free from Azkaban. If he didn't tell him now, there might never be another chance for it. But Dumbledore's hand held him in his seat and didn't allow him to get up from his chair.

Across the room he could see Remus and he tried to tell himself that there was a look of understanding in his friend's eyes. If he only told himself that, it might be easier to accept that he might have to go.

What Sirius didn't know about was the muggle passport that carried his picture. At the moment, this passport was kept in one of the inside pockets of Dumbledore's robe, right next to an envelope containing a bit of Muggle money and a letter with instructions as well as a portkey that would break even the Ministry's strong wards around the courtroom. After all, what were friends for if one couldn't ask a favour of them from time to time? And Dumbledore had many friends at the Ministry, some of whom owed him big favours. And he had a plan for the case that Sirius would be charged guilty.

That was why he did not look quite as strained when the judges entered the room again.

Sirius on the other hand looked as if he would pass out any moment. Remus was watching him with increasing concern while Snape next to him had long ago given up any attempt to hide the gleeful smirk on his face. McGonagall looked torn between anxiety and her usual severity, and Ron and Hermione both were nearly as pale as Sirius was. 

They all got up from their benches when the judges re-entered and Remus desperately tried to read the verdict from their faces. He couldn't.

As the three judges had taken up position behind their seats again, Remus held his breath without realizing.

Reynolds started to speak.

"We have come to a decision in case AC-12/822, the wizarding community against Mr. Sirius Black. This trial did not serve to re-evaluate the circumstances that have led to Mr. Black's arrest in the year 1981, nor to judge whether his imprisonment in Azkaban for the years from 1981 till 1993 has been just and correctly executed. Today's task was to evaluate whether Mr. Black was guilty of the charges laid against him, namely homicide in thirteen cases, attempted homicide in two, and executed bodily harm in another case as well as breakout from a legal institution. 

We have heard the testimonies in this case, two of which under the influence of Veritaserum, and all testimonies have been alike, telling the same story. We have no reason to doubt the correctness of any of those testimonies, and as much as it might differ from public belief of the past fifteen years, what we heard today in court can only lead to one verdict.

We declare Mr. Sirius Black innocent in all charges laid against him. We find his imprisonment in Azkaban fro the time between 1981 and 1993 unjust and declare his right for compensation for this imprisonment. Mr. Black leaves this courtroom as a free citizen of the wizarding community and his civil rights, including access to all his possessions and properties if existing, are completely restored.

I declare this session closed."

While the three judges got up and left the courtroom, the audience literally buzzed with excitement about this verdict. Everybody suddenly seemed to have the need to say something, and they all did so at once, while the press was busy shoving towards the front of the room to get a good position for a photo of Sirius. The constant clicking of the cameras could be heard even over the commotion of the audience.

Remus jumped to his feet immediately after the judge had finished declaring the verdict. He hardly took the time to try and understand all the implications of what had happened that day, all he wanted now was get to his friend's side.

Sirius looked as if he had not heard the judge only moments ago. Though Dumbledore was clasping his shoulder in congratulation, the younger man just stared at the wall as if he could not believe that all of this was happening.

Remus reached them only moments after the verdict had been announced and immediately pulled Sirius to his feet.

"You've done it. You've done it, Sirius!"

"Yes. I guess."

Sirius didn't even sound as if he believed it. Remus grasped his shoulders and shook him slightly.

"You're free!"

Sirius only nodded as Remus pulled him into a tight hug. Even as he patted his friend's back, Remus realized that Sirius had started shaking. All the tension seemed to leave him at once, and Remus was not sure for how long his legs would keep on supporting him. With every moment that passed, Sirius seemed to lean more heavily Remus for support. It wouldn't be long, Remus guessed, until his friend's legs would give away.

"Remus?"

Even his voice was breaking away.  
"Yes?"

"Just take me out of here, please. Just take me out of here."

"Sure."

As fast as possible while supporting a nearly immobile Sirius, Remus steered them towards the side-door of the room in the hope that they'd have a little peace and quiet there. Dumbledore held the door open for them, and as they emerged the courtroom he led them over towards a smaller room on the opposite side of the corridor. Remus barely managed to steer Sirius onto one of the chairs that stood in the room before his friend collapsed completely. Sirius was shaking badly, no colour left in his face at all and his breaths were coming out hitched, just as if he was about to start crying.

Concerned, Remus crouched down on the floor next to Sirius' chair, one hand on his friend's shoulder. But he received no reaction.

"Sirius?"

He gently squeezed Sirius' shoulder and slowly, the other's blue eyes tuned towards him and focussed on Remus.

"Are you all right?"

Sirius looked for a moment as if he was trying to understand the question, then he shook his head and jumped to his feet so suddenly that Remus nearly fell backwards in surprise. Sirius had one hand clamped tightly over his mouth and Dumbledore quickly called out "The second door on the right", into his direction. Sirius vanished out of the room and Remus followed, not willing to leave his friend alone just now.

The second door on the right indeed proved to be a toilet and Remus found Sirius kneeling in the cubicle straight across from the door, shaking and heaving badly, throwing up the Ministry canteen menu from an hour before into the toilet. Trying to ignore the stench of vomit that attacked his lycanthropy heightened senses, Remus again crouched down next to Sirius and gently rubbed circles across his back with one hand while he tried to hold back Sirius' long hair from his face with the other. 

It took some more minutes until the dry heaves had stopped wracking through Sirius' body and he slowly rose into an upright kneeling position in front of the toilet. Remus noted that Sirius' face was drenched in sweat and still as pale as it had been the entire afternoon, if possible even paler. If Sirius would ever get some colour back into his face, Remus could not guess at the moment.

"Feeling better?"

Sirius grimaced.

"I don't really know. It's been a bit much, I guess."

Remus nodded, understanding that Sirius was not talking about the amount of food he had eaten earlier. Remus got up from where he was still crouching next to his friend and went over towards the sinks in the corner. He wetted one of the paper-towels and handed it back so that Sirius could wipe the vomit off his face, then conjured a glass out of a knut he fished from out of his pocket, filled it with water from the tap and handed it over to Sirius.

"Here, drink something. You'll feel a bit better afterwards."

Sirius obediently took the water and downed it in small gulps. Remus was relieved to realize that the shaking had stopped nearly completely and Sirius seemed to be strong enough to stand on his own feet again. He turned the empty glass back into a knut, pocketed it and gently helped Sirius to his feet.

"Come on, let's go back to Albus and get home, I really don't want to stay here any longer than necessary."  
Sirius nodded weakly and followed Remus out of the room, allowing his friend to guide him because he was way too drained and tired to care about their direction anymore. When they came back into the small room, Dumbledore was waiting for them, a gentle smile on his face.

"How are you feeling, Sirius?"

Sirius sank down in a chair and waved Dumbledore's concern off.

"Just won't eat something from that canteen again, that's all."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, it might be better if you returned to Kent and just got some rest. Keeping a low profile during the next couple of days might be advisable, too, at least until everything that happened today is made public and has begun to spread. It would be a pity if you fell victim to an act of self-justice just now, when you're finally cleared."  
Sirius looked up sharply.  
"What about Harry?"  
Remus frowned, thinking back to the trial.

"Now that you say it Sirius, where was Harry today?"

"The Ministry wizard who was sent to fetch him returned, saying that Harry's relatives had sent him back alone because Harry is sick." Dumbledore replied calmly. "However", he turned his eyes on Sirius, "I don't think it would be advisable to act rashly on Harry's behalf just now."

Sirius rose from his chair, glaring openly at Dumbledore.

"But Harry is sick, we –"

"It might not be the most comfortable for him", Dumbledore replied before Sirius could talk himself into a frenzy, "and I might even agree that his relatives might not take care of him as good and lovingly as you would, but rash action could cost you Harry now."

Sirius was about to disagree, but again Dumbledore cut him off before he could even start to speak.

"No Sirius. I know that you care about Harry, but we've been assured that it's just a flu-bug. Harry will be alright within a couple of days, and this is exactly the time I want you to lie low before you do anything. It might take a day or so until you can access your Gringott's vault again, you need a new wand, you'll need to look after your family's house or, if you don't want to live there, you'll have to search and prepare a new place of living, and last but not least you still have to hand in an official petition for custody. No Sirius, don't look at me like that. You are Harry's godfather, the Ministry can hardly deny you the custody, but I don't want you to act until everything is settled officially. You've just been cleared, there is absolutely no need for you to get accused of something else straight away.

If anything, we need time to prepare the security means for Harry's arrival. At Privet Drive, he is protected by his blood relation to Lily's sister, no matter what happens Voldemort can't reach or harm him there. This will be different when he starts living with you, and I'm not willing to let Harry leave Privet Drive until you have the official custody for him and your place is secured and warded enough. This point is not open for discussion, Sirius."

Sirius nodded weakly, though it was obvious that he wanted to apparate to Privet Drive and take Harry with him straight away. Remus smiled, knowing fully well what was going on in his friend's mind at that moment.

"Come on Sirius, let's go home. You look as if you could do with some sleep, and then we'll start thinking of everything that still needs to be done.

Nodding again, Sirius got up from his chair and for a moment stood in front of Dumbledore, his eyes expressing what he could not find appropriate words for.

"Thank you Albus", he said at last. "I really can't thank you enough for what you've done today. Without your help, I'd not have been given that trial at all, and knowing Fudge I'd have gotten my soul sucked out before it was noon. Thank you."  
Dumbledore smiled gently.

"You're welcome, Sirius. You've earned this for quite some time now, and I'm just glad I could be of help. And this way, things will be a lot easier for the Order and especially for Harry. I'll be in contact with you during the next days. Until then, Sirius, Remus."

"Good bye Albus."  
Dumbledore nodded at the two men and then left the room, heading for the Atrium from where it was possible to floo out of the Ministry, leaving Remus and Sirius alone to do the same as soon as Sirius had collected himself enough to face the unavoidable stares and whispers he'd have to face from those he'd meet.

"Ready?"

Sirius nodded at Remus' question, a sudden determination in his eyes.

"Yes, let's get out of here. There's much I have to do before we fetch Harry."

Remus smiled at this sudden change of mood, inwardly being glad that the thought about soon having Harry live with him was enough to bring those sparks back into Sirius' eyes.

"Then let's not lose any more time", he said, gesturing Sirius out of the room and followed closely behind.


	3. Taking Care Dursley Style

**Taking Care – Dursley Style**

An eerie silence lay over Privet Drive this early July evening. Most of the inhabitants of the street – though Petunia Dursley would have said differently – were not very noisy people anyway, and the heat during the past day had made most of them drowsy and tired, leading to an early retreat into the safe coolness of their houses. The gardens were lying silent under the fading sunlight, green lawns showing small spots of dried brown as the only sign that this summer had so far been the hottest in the past fifteen years. 

This did not very much help the teenage boy who way lying upstairs, in the bed of the smallest bedroom of Nr. 4, Privet Drive.

Harry Potter was having a lousy holiday so far, worse than any he had had before. Which meant something, because holidays had never been Harry's favourite part of the year. He knew that it was safest for him to return to Privet Drive, he knew that the protective magic placed around him was strongest when he was surrounded by his (last remaining) blood relatives, the Dursleys. But that didn't mean Harry had to agree with or even like the arrangement, he did despise them nearly as much as the Dursleys despised him. But there was nothing he could do about them, so he just had to accept that his summer holidays consisted of being locked away at Privet Drive, hoping for his friends and his godfather to stay in contact and tell him what was going on in the wizarding world.

The second war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters was only steps away from all that Harry knew. Voldemort had gained his own physical body back over a year ago now, and the fact that the Ministry of Magic under the leadership of Cornelius Fudge had denied this fact for the past year had surely made it easier for the Dark Lord to recruit and re-group his followers around him again. Albus Dumbledore was sure that Voldemort's strike would come, and from all that he had told Harry at the end of the past school year, it would rather be earlier than later.

There had been absolutely no Death Eater activity, nothing that could be linked to them in any way, during the past twelve months, and this worried not only Dumbledore, but everybody who belonged to the group of allies he had gathered around him. Fortunately there were not just a few wizards and witches who rather trusted Dumbledore than Fudge and who didn't really give anything about what the Daily Prophet wrote about Hogwart's headmaster getting senile and The Boy Who Lived being mighty disturbed. So at least the wizarding community would not meet Voldemort's second reign completely unprepared, and though Harry had never really gotten an insight into the concrete workings of the Order of the Phoenix (which was how Dumbledore's resistance group called themselves) he knew that they were constantly alert, searching for any sign of changes.

And as if the constant threat of Voldemort starting the war wasn't enough, Harry had other things on his mind which were not pleasant, either. Though one year had passed since the fake Professor Moody's portkey had taken Harry and Cedric Diggory to the graveyard where Voldemort had awaited them, the encounter was still vivid in Harry's mind. Especially at night, when he saw the older Hufflepuff boy die over and over again, every night. All this had happened because Harry had suggested that they take the winner's cup together. True, Harry had not known that the cup had been turned into a portkey, but that didn't change the fact that had it not been for him, Cedric would still be alive. If he had not competed in that stupid tournament, heck if Voldemort had not been hunting him ever since Harry was a baby, then Cedric would still be alive. It just wasn't fair that Harry had survived, had returned from the encounter with Voldemort relatively unscathed while Cedric had never had a chance to survive.

At the end of Harry's fourth year, shortly after everything had happened, most of his class- and schoolmates (except from the Slytherins of course) had not shown any signs of blaming Harry for what had happened, though he himself did that enough. They had listened to Dumbledore's explanation of Voldemort's return and had merely wondered why Harry had been able to survive where so many others would not have. But then the school year had been over and the students had returned to their own homes, where there had been no Dumbledore to back up Harry's story. No sign that Voldemort had returned showed in the paper and instead Fudge had not let one single opportunity pass to discredit Harry and use his connections to the Daily Prophet to let Harry publicly look like a disturbed boy with way too much fantasy.

Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had not been a pleasant one. Though most of his fellow Gryffindors, especially his team mates and friends, had stuck to him, the rest of the school had given Harry a hard time, especially the Slytherins. Supported by the Daily Prophet and its small comments as to why Harry was a complete nutcase, they had not left one single opportunity to taunt Harry. Not openly, and surely not in a way that any teachers could notice it, but their subtle teasing had been even worse than open accusations.

The Hufflepuffs, Cedric's housemates, had eyed Harry warily whenever he had passed some of them. Whenever Harry had encountered Cho Chang in the corridors, she had stared at him for a moment, then the tears had welled up into her eyes and she had turned around and left. Whatever romantic thoughts of the teenager kind Harry might have had towards her, this had definitely passed during the past year. There had not been many rays of light for Harry ever since Cedric had died. Ron and Hermione had stuck to him no matter what, even when Harry had lost his temper and had vented out all his anger and frustration on them. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup again, beating Ravenclaw rather spectacularly in the last game of the season. And eight weeks before the end of the term, their Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Wilberts, had resigned from the post out of sheer frustration about the students and subjects she had to teach. A Ministry official before she had been added to the Hogwarts staff, Professor Wilberts had not expected Dumbledore's open dealing with Voldemort's return and the advanced Defence magic the headmaster had expected her to teach. The fact that Wilberts had resigned was not that positive as such, though in Harry's opinion she had not been a good teacher, but because Wilbert's replacement had come as a positive surprise. Against the Ministry's explicit advice and against the protest of Professor Snape and most of his Slytherin students, Albus Dumbledore had re-instated Remus Lupin as the Defence teacher, backed up by the school board governors who were luckily by now on Dumbledore's side, some of the few allies he had in the Ministry.

But that was already the majority of the positive things that had lightened up Harry's past year.

And now he was stuck again at No. 4, Privet Drive with his Aunt, Uncle and his cousin Dudley. It was four weeks into the holidays, the second week of July, and Harry had been cut off from the wizarding world for the entire time. There had been no owls from his friends or his godfather, but as Vernon had barred his window, this didn't surprise Harry. Vernon had been very explicit in making clear that this summer he would not allow any contact between Harry and anybody else from the wizarding world, afraid that the comings and goings of owls that had been going on last summer would have made anybody in the neighbourhood suspicious. Harry's own owl, Hedwig, had been perched into her cage for the entire time, and no arguing or shouting could convince Vernon and Petunia that she needed to get out from time to time. So all Harry could do at the moment was give his faithful pet an extra amount of owl-treats and let her fly around in his room for a while when he knew that Vernon and Petunia were in the living room, watching the evening news or a quiz-show. Hedwig didn't particularly like her situation, but somehow she seemed to understand that Harry was not the one to blame for it. At least that was what Harry hoped she did.

But at the moment, thoughts about his owl were far from Harry's mind, as were the Triwizard Tournament, Cedric Diggory, his miserable situation stuck with the muggles and even Lord Voldemort. In fact, there was hardly anything coherent on Harry's mind, as it had been for the past two days. 

Harry hadn't really felt well ever since he had come back from Hogwarts, but at first he had blamed his lack of appetite and his general feeling of being unwell on the thought of two months with the Dursleys, and had thought that his headaches came from his scar, connecting him to whatever horrid mood Lord Voldemort was in now. 

But during the last two days, Harry had realized that his feeling of being unnaturally hot had nothing to do with the extraordinarily well weather, and that Voldemort did not cause his headaches.

No, Harry was truly and utterly sick. He felt like shit, hardly strong enough to stand up on his feet and do his usual chores around the house. At the sole mentioning of the word food his stomach gave painful jerks, which was not really the best considering that he had to prepare all the Dursleys' meals.

Despite his aunt's urging not to be even more lazy than usual, and despite his uncle's shouting that he was just pretending to be ill to get off his chores, after this morning's breakfast Harry had immediately returned to his room and had fallen to the bed, feeling as if he hadn't slept in ages.

Harry didn't really know how high his fever was as nobody had ever cared to let him use a thermometer to check it, but he guessed that it was pretty high by now. Waking up and getting up had been an awful deal this morning. He had neither heard his alarm clock nor the first three times when Petunia had knocked on his bedroom door. Her shrill voice calling for Vernon and his uncle's appearance afterwards had barely been enough to rouse Harry, though his uncle had shouted and ranted for minutes. After a sharp slap on the back of his head, Harry had finally climbed out of his bed and tried his best to keep upright. The bacon had burnt, the toast had been black as well, Harry had spilt Vernon's tea and had knocked a bowl of cereal over Petunia's favourite blouse, the latter earning him a sharp slap on the face from his uncle. Normally, Harry would have easily dodged that blow, but somehow this morning his reflexes had not worked properly and the blow had knocked him clear off his feet.

So after breakfast Harry had immediately hurried back to his room, though hurried was probably not the best word to describe the way he had moved. Not with all his limbs and joints aching, his head thrumming, ears ringing and the sick feeling in his stomach. Managing just enough strength to crawl back on his bed, Harry had fallen down and immediately fallen asleep, not caring in the slightest whether Petunia and Vernon agreed to this or not.

That was why Harry was not thinking about anything this evening. He was still lying on his bed, one moment curled up in himself to fight of the shivers and tremors that wracked through his body, the next pushing away his blankets and trying to get as cool as possible in the summer heat. Harry still had not woken up, though his laboured breathing and the layer of sweat on his forehead was indication enough that his sleep was not content and untroubled.

"BOY! Get down here!"

Though Vernon was bellowing those words so loud that Ms. Carlson in Number ten surely had no problems hearing them, Harry only stirred faintly and turned his head to the other side.

Steps thundered up the stairs and a moment later the door to Harry's bedroom was ripped open and Vernon's bulky frame stormed into the room, over towards the bed that still held Harry.

"Lazy and ungrateful, that's what ye are! Didn't you hear me calling you down about ten times?"

Harry turned his head into the direction of the sound, but that was the only sign of recognition he showed towards the other presence in his room. Vernon's face grew an ugly shade of purple, signalling extreme anger and deep trouble for the one who had caused this. Which would be Harry, as always.

"BOY! Don't you dare ignore me and keep on with your stupid little show here. It's obvious that you're not sick, so don't pretend to be! Didn't I tell you not to give away our address to the other freaks?"

Through the haze in Harry's mind, some of the information trickled through, but it was not enough to make him wake up fully.

"Huh?"  
"There is one of you...you freaks down there, saying he's come to take you with him. What's that supposed to mean?"  
"Huh?"

"Don't you 'huh' me, understood? I want an answer, what did you give him our address for? Who is this?"

With an enormous effort, Harry shrugged his shoulders once and then allowed himself to sink back into his pillows.

"'on know. 'm sick."  
"I give you sick if you're not up and about in ten minutes time, telling that freak to leave again. He's scared the wits out of Dudley and Petunia is just a bundle of nerves, and again it's all your doing. Now GET UP!"

But Harry only mumbled something incoherent and sank fully back onto his pillow, consciousness fleeing again. Vernon's face grew even angrier if that was possible, but as Harry didn't show any sign of waking up when he violently shook him a couple of times, and neither when he slapped his Harry's face non-too-gentle a couple of times, Vernon realized that his nephew would not wake to tell the other freak to leave again anytime soon. Vernon could clearly feel the unnatural heat that radiated from Harry's body, but while he'd not let being sick count as an excuse for his nephew, it maybe was the explanation that would get the other robed freak in his hallway downstairs to leave again. The air of that...that man, really. Coming to his house in broad daylight, demanding to see the boy and to even take him away for the day. Ministry of M...Vernon didn't even want to think about it. Those freaks now claimed to have an own Ministry as well? Where should this lead to? What if somebody saw the boy with that strange-clothed figure, people would start talking and in the end it would all fall back on his own family. No, Vernon could not let that happen. And when he told the other now that Harry was too sick to go wherever that man wanted to take him, he'd better accept it without making a fuss. Otherwise the boy would get a serious reminder not to hand out their address to his freak-friends. The Dursleys were normal and honourable people after all, thank you very much.

Vernon slammed the door shut behind himself and stomped down the stairs, intending to tell the man in the hallway exactly that.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Nearly three days had passed since Sirius had been caught and freed again, and ever since then sitting still seemed to have become an off-concept for him. Remus bore his friend's excited attitude with as much patience as he could muster as he knew fully well what the recent developments meant to Sirius. He was free again, he could leave the house without getting in danger to be lynched or imprisoned and, most important of all, he'd soon be able to take care of Harry, just as he had promised James and Lily all those years ago. At least that's what both of them hoped, the Ministry still had not responded to Sirius' petition for custody.

For the first time in the past three days Sirius seemed to come to something akin to a rest this afternoon. There was no trip to Diagon Alley planned, and no other activities that would demand leaving the house and enjoying his newly-acquired freedom in full.

At the moment Sirius was sitting in the living room, a pot of coffee and an immensely high stack of parchments in front of him, leafing through what appeared to be listings of his family's property and the state it was in, along with fourteen years worth of Gringott's correspondence. Remus didn't even want to know what else was buried on his couch table, so he sat down on the armchair next to Sirius and gestured at the parchment Sirius was holding.

"So you really want to move back into your family's house?"

Sirius looked up at his old friend and shrugged.

"I don't know why not."

"Maybe because it's been abandoned for more than fourteen years?"

Again, Sirius shrugged, but this time a mischievous sparkle showed in his eyes.

"I've had a couple of protection spells around it, you know, the usual. Keeping it from becoming a ruin and stuff. As for the rest of it..."

Remus raised his eyebrows, guessing already very well where this conversation was leading.

"Yes?"

"...well, Remus, you know what happens to a magical house when it's abandoned for so long."  
"I do?"

"Well, yes. Boggarts and pixies, all those nasty little pests that settle in and refuse to leave again. And the eccentric personalities the paintings develop when they're left alone for so long."

"A real problem, I see."  
Remus sounded dry and completely impassive, yet he had to fight hard not to dissolve into laughter right there and then.

"Well", Sirius said, gesturing wildly around with his finger, "not a problem to somebody who has an expert on magical creatures at hand."

Remus crossed his hands across his chest and leaned back in his chair. 

"And you know just such a person, do you?"  
The mischievous look from his youth was fully back on Sirius' face and Remus didn't even bother do hide how glad he was about it. Freedom seemed to do a world of good to his old friend, and the times when Remus had to watch his mood-changes and his brooding helplessly seemed to be over at last. Remus just hoped they were over for good.

"Oh, as a matter of fact I do know an expert on magical creatures. The best there is, actually. He just has to agree to help me."

"And what makes you think he will?"  
Sirius smirked in a manner that would have made every Malfoy proud.

"Oh, I don't think he'll have a choice not to. Not while I still have those wonderful pictures of his Halloween costume from our fifth year at school. I bet Harry would just love them..."

Remus paled.

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh yes, I would."  
"You..."

Whatever answer Remus had been about to give was interrupted by a loud rapping sound from the window in the kitchen. Both men looked at each other, frowning. The owl delivering the Daily Prophet had already been there that morning, as had a Hogwarts owl with a letter from Albus Dumbledore. There weren't many other correspondents for Sirius and Remus, none except from Harry. And Sirius had sent a letter to his godson just this morning, a reply from him already would be far too early.

Grinning slightly, Remus pushed himself up and headed out of the room.

"Well, I'd better let that owl in. It would be a shame to rob you of your fan-mail."

Sirius didn't look all that happy at Remus' last sentence.

"Fan-mail? What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

"Haven't read the readers' comments page in the Daily Prophet since your trial, have you?" Remus grinned back before he opened the window. "There's a lot of people out there, single women around their thirties mostly, who are very touched by your story. _'__A shame to rob the female wizarding population of such a strikingly handsome man for so long', if I may quote my favourite comment. I for one wouldn't be all that surprised if buckets of fan-mail started arriving by tomorrow."_

"You're enjoying this immensely, aren't you?"

"Yes. It's like an early Christmas for me.""

Sirius wanted to reply something witty, but the words died on his lips when he saw just what owls were outside the kitchen window. One was easy enough to identify as Ron's owl Pig, a tiny little ball of feathers that fluttered excitedly around the room. But as unusual as it might have been for Ron to write to Sirius or Remus it was the second owl that had cut off Sirius' words. It was Remus' own owl Rasputin, and it shouldn't be here in Kent right now. Only this morning Sirius had sent him to Surrey, carrying a letter for Harry. But now it was back, the letter for Harry still securely tied to his leg.

Sirius stared at Rasputin for a moment, completely ignoring Pig's indignant screeching and fluttering, then he turned his eyes on Remus.

"Why is Rasputin already back? Why didn't he deliver the letter to Harry?"  
Remus shrugged and climbed onto one of the kitchen chairs, catching Pig before he could throw down the contents of the shelves.

"I don't know, Sirius. Rasputin has never given me problems before."  
Sirius pulled his recently acquired wand from the sleeve of his robe and turned towards the hall, ready to apparate to Surrey immediately. Only Remus' quick reflexes brought him to Sirius' side fast enough to prevent him from doing so.

"Sirius! What are you doing?"  
"What does it look like, Remus? I'm going to look what's wrong with my godson!"  
"You can't! Don't you remember what Albus said about lying low until you officially have the custody?"

Remus tried to put his hands on Sirius' shoulders and calm him, but the dark haired man would have none of that. He shrugged off Remus' hands and stormed into the living room, pacing angrily in front of the fireplace.

"Do you know what? I don't care what Albus says about this. He's not infallible, otherwise he'd not have left Harry with those muggles in the first place!"

"Calm down Sirius!"

"No! Listen, it's been three days since somebody checked on Harry. And then it was a Ministry official who didn't even look after him when the muggles said he was sick. And now your owl didn't get through to him. That's strange, isn't it?"  
"Maybe he just wasn't home?"  
"And your owl didn't wait for him like post-owls are trained to do? And where do you think did Harry go, sick as he was?"  
"Sirius, it's just a flu-bug..."  
Remus flinched as Sirius slammed his hands onto the table in exasperation.

"The muggles said it was just the flu. Now, I don't know about you, but from everything Harry told about them, I don't give much about what they say. I'm worried about Harry, all right?"  
Remus sighed and wanted to run his hands through his hair. Only then did he realize that he was still holding Pig, who had calmed down remarkably since he had arrived.

"Listen Sirius, let's see what Ron writes and then let's think about it. We can check up on Harry, but you have to promise not to do anything rash."

"Excuse me for caring about my godson!"

"Sirius, I care about Harry as well, but you have to understand that doing something rash could convince the Ministry that you're not cut out for taking custody for Harry."

Sirius answered with the same indignant sound he always used to answer any accusation against himself, but he put his wand away and gestured Remus to open Ron's letter. Pig struggled a bit against Remus' efforts, but at last he managed to free the folded parchment and let go of the tiny owl which immediately flew over to Rasputin's perch and collapsed into the food-bowl. Remus chuckled, then unfolded the letter and read it out loud.

_Dear Sirius,_

_you__ were gone so quickly from the courtroom that nobody of us had the chance to congratulate you. But Hermione and I were very glad that things turned out like they did, and that we could be of help. As was the rest of our family. Well, everyone except from Percy, but that is another story. As long as Fudge stays Minister, there won't be anything that could make that stupid git (Percy) doubt the idiot (Fudge)._

_But that's not the reason why I write you._

_Have you heard from Harry lately? I've tried to write him a couple of times already, but either Pig came back without a reply or he brought back my own letter. Now, Pig isn't the most reliable owl, but Hermione has written that she had the same problem._

_Those muggles said that he was sick on the day of the trial, but I don't see why that should keep him from opening out letters._

_We're worried that his aunt and uncle maybe intercept his mail (Harry always tells how strange they are), or that it maybe has something to do with You-Know-Who. Mum says she'll only sleep well again when she knows that Harry is fine and in the care of somebody from the wizarding world (I guess she means you)._

_He will come to you, won't he? I mean, with you being his godfather and all._

_If you know anything more abut Harry, please let us know, we're worried about him._

_Greet Professor Lupin from Hermione and me if you happen to see him._

_Yours,_

_Ron_

Before Remus had even put down the letter, Sirius had jumped to his feet and was on his way towards the front door again.

"Sirius, what..."

"That's enough Remus. Do you hear me? Enough. Nobody has seen Harry all summer, nobody has heard from him. And now it's enough. I'm going to make sure that he's all right and if he isn't, I'm going to take him out of there."

Remus quickly put away Ron's parchment and followed Sirius out, fully intending to stop his friend before he got himself into trouble. 

"Sirius, if you take Harry before they have granted you the custody, it could cost you Harry! The Ministry..."

But Sirius only turned around, raised his wand and grinned.  
"Fuck the Ministry!"  
And before Remus could do anything to stop him, Sirius had apparated away.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

By the time Remus had followed his wayward friend and had apparated as close to No. 4 Privet Drive as the wards around it would allow, he could already see Padfoot rounding the corner of Magnolia Crescent and bounce up the street where Harry lived.

"Padfoot! At least wait for me!"

But the dog pretended not to hear him. As Remus broke into a run, the dog turned back into the form of Harry's godfather, who knocked non-too gently on the Dursleys' front door.

Panting and wheezing from his chase up the street, Remus reached Sirius' side before somebody in the house had reacted to his knocking. Remus glared at his old friend, who wisely chose to ignore him, but before he could give Sirius a piece of his mind about what he was doing here, the door opened and the two wizards came face to face with Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley. Upon seeing their robes and the wand Remus still clutched tightly in his hand, a shocked frown appeared on his face, only to be quickly replaced by a look of seething anger.

"What do you want?"  
Remus wanted to say something, but he should have guessed that Sirius would not have time for politeness.

"Where is Harry?"

"There is no Harry in this house! Leave, or I'll call the police!"

But Sirius was not the kind of person who was easy to get rid off, especially not when he was worried or angry. Or both, as he presumably was now. He pushed past Vernon into the house and also ignored Petunia, who had appeared in the kitchen door and upon his presence had started to scream.

Instead, Sirius came to a halt on the foot of the stairs and called out for his godson.

"Harry! Harry, are you up there?"  
As he received no answer, Sirius turned around and gave Vernon a glare that would have made a mountain troll back away. Even Remus, who knew Sirius better than anybody else, felt the shivers run down his spine upon seeing that look.

"Where is my godson, Dursley?"  
"You...you...you're that murderer!" Vernon seemed to have finally understood who was standing before him, but he obviously hadn't realized yet that this was not what Sirius wanted to hear. So Vernon found himself pushed up against the wall with Sirius holding him tightly in place on the scruff of his neck.

"I will ask you one more time, then I will get quite unpleasant. Where is Harry? What have you done to my godson?"

"U...upstairs. But we didn't do it..."  
"Do what?"

Vernon flinched as Sirius roared so close to his ears, but after a moment he managed to bring the words past his constricted throat.

"It...he...it just happened. We thought it was another freakishness of his, I didn't want to get Dudley or Petunia infected...had to keep him away from them..."

Vernon sank to his knees as Sirius' hands suddenly loosened their grip on his shirt. Sirius stormed upstairs without waiting for another word from Vernon, and after disabling the phone and locking all doors and windows with a flick of his wand so that the Dursleys could not run away or call the authorities, Remus hurried after him.

Sirius ripped open all the doors on the upper floor in search of his godson's room, and finally he reached a door which he had to unlock by magic, guessing correctly that this was where the Dursleys had kept Harry in quarantine. He unlocked the door, ripped it open and took a step into the room, stopping dead in his tracks. Remus hurried down the hall towards him, but before he reached the door he heard Sirius exclaim a loud profanity and storm into the room. By the time Remus reached it, Sirius was already kneeling next to the small bed, completely shielding it from Remus' view.

The room was unbearable hot, which was no small surprise as the window was closed and barred. Nobody seemed to have bothered to let some air into it for the past days. Harry's owl was sitting in her cage, screeching loudly at the sight of Sirius and Remus. 

"Sirius, what's wrong?"

Remus went over towards the bed, determined to finally answer the question what the heck was wrong with Harry, but he too stopped dead in his tracks as he got his first look on the teenager.

Harry was lying on the bed, slumped down and unmoving. His hair was matted and sweaty, clinging to his forehead as if he was lying like that for days by now. Harry was awfully pale, only his cheeks were flushed with an unnatural heat that could only mean he was suffering under a dangerously high fever. There was an evident bruise on the left side of his face, but what worried Remus even more at the moment were the small pustules that covered his entire face and neck, practically every bit of visible skin and surely the skin beneath his clothes as well.

Sirius turned around to face Remus, worry, panic and helplessness evident on his face.

"Remus, what's that?"  
Remus knelt down next to the oblivious teenager and gently ran a hand across the teenager's forehead.   
"I'm not a doctor, Sirius, but I'd say it's Dragonpox."

"What? But Remus, he's nearly sixteen!"

Remus slowly turned around and nodded.

"That's why we should get him to a doctor immediately, he's burning up. Merlin only knows when those blasted muggles have last deemed it necessary to look after him. Take him to the bathroom and see if you can get some liquids into him, then take him downstairs. I'll pack his stuff and be with you in a moment.

You've had Dragonpox, didn't you?"  
Sirius nodded as he put his arms under Harry's knees and shoulders.

"Yes, when I was five."  
Remus nodded shortly.

"Good. Get going, I'll be along shortly."

Sirius picked up Harry's lithe frame and left the room while Remus rose to his feet again and opened the lid of Harry's trunk with a flick of his wand. Harry didn't seem to have unpacked most of his stuff during the past weeks, so all Remus had to do was levitate some books and parchments into the trunk. When he was finished, Remus levitated the trunk and Hedwig's cage out of the room and down the stairs where he found Sirius standing and glaring at the cowering forms of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Harry's aunt and uncle kept as far away from Sirius and the sick teenager who still lay lifelessly in his godfather's arms. Remus could see that his old friend was close to hexing Harry's relatives within an inch of their lives, but at the moment they really had something else to think about. 

"Did he drink something, Sirius?"  
Not turning his glare away from the Dursleys, Sirius nodded.

"Two glasses of water. I didn't want to give him more, I didn't know how much he could keep down. He didn't wake up, though."

Remus nodded.

"All right. Let's bring him home, and then we'll call a doctor and tell Albus that we've taken Harry."

Sirius nodded, but made no move towards the door, growling lowly in his throat. Petunia shrieked and cowered even farther behind her husband.

"Sirius! Let's go."

Remus grabbed Sirius' shoulder and gently turned him towards the door. This pulled Sirius out of his stupor and with another concerned glance at Harry's fever-flushed face he hurried out of the house, Remus following suit. They didn't talk much as they walked quickly down the street, trying to reach the end of the anti-apparition ward as fast as possible. As soon as they had reached the edge of Magnolia Crescent, they hid under a group of trees near the road and apparated away, Sirius holding Harry tightly while Remus took a secure hold of the teenager's trunk and Hedwig's cage.


	4. The Dragonpox Disaster

Alright, just on a short note: I think that temperatures in Great Britain are given in °F. Correct me if I'm wrong there, but now all the temperatures in this chapter are given in °F. I'm not used to this, we in Germany use °C, so every temperature you find in this chapter is calculated from °C into °F. If they look weird to you, blame my dictionary which told me the formula for the calculation.

****

**The Dragonpox Disaster**

As soon as the two wizards had arrived back in Remus' house in Kent, Sirius carried the still unconscious Harry up the stairs and into the spare bedroom which he had occupied for the past year. Remus let Harry's trunk drop to the floor and opened Hedwig's cage so that the owl could fly outside through the open window, then he immediately hurried over into the living room and lit a fire in the fireplace. It was of no use to call for Madam Pomfrey right now, Remus had heard her tell about the visit at her daughter's she had planned for this summer. The school nurse was somewhere in Austria right now and not at Hogwarts. But Remus knew somebody who was at least as qualified as Madam Pomfrey when it came to treating sick teenagers, and a minute later Dr. Stuart Mitchell, an old friend of Remus' father, was on his way to Remus' house.

That done, Remus sent a quick note to Albus Dumbledore in which he told the headmaster that it had been him and Sirius who had taken Harry out of Privet Drive – he guessed that the moment Harry had left the protective wards around his relatives' house a million alarms had gone off in Dumbledore's office – and asked the older wizard to drop by and have a look at the situation himself.

Just as Rasputin had flown off, there was a knock on the door and Remus hurried into the hall to let the doctor in.

Stuart Mitchell was an extremely small man, though not as small as Filius Flitwick, but he had never gotten bigger than the average ten year old boy. His greying hair had a slight tinge of blue in it, and from a narrow but friendly face that spread around an extremely large and crooked nose a pair of extraordinarily dark blue eyes watched Remus attentively. A smile spread across the older wizard's face when Remus opened the door.

"Remus, good to see you, it's been quite some time. Though you don't look as if you're in need of my help."

"Dr. Mitchell, thank you for coming so quickly. It's not about me, it's about...a houseguest of mine."

He gestured the small man into the house and mentioned to go upstairs.

"Who?"

Well, the doctor had to see Harry anyway, so Remus could as well spill the beans right there and then.

"Harry Potter."

The only reaction this provoked was a small grunt, but after a short moment curiosity got the better of Mitchell.

"I didn't know that Harry Potter was living with you, Remus."  
"He's my best friend's godson."

That still didn't really answer the question, but at the moment no further questions about the reason why Harry was here were posed.

"What has he got?"

"Awfully high fever, and I'd say it's not been treated in any way for the past days. And he's covered in pustules. I know I'm not really competent to judge it, but to me it looks a lot like Dragonpox."

Mitchell paused for a moment on the stairs.

"How old is he?"  
"Sixteen in two weeks."

When the small man resumed walking, his steps were noticeably faster and had a certain urgency in them.

"Then let's better hope you're wrong, Remus. Dragonpox at the age of sixteen...that's not something that should be taken lightly."

"I know, that's why I called you immediately."

They reached the upper floor of Remus' small cottage and Remus showed Dr. Mitchell to the spare bedroom which Sirius usually occupied. Only yesterday, Sirius had done what he had called a 'thorough cleansing action', and thankfully that meant that at least the floor and bed in his room had been cleared from all dirty clothes and other indefinable stuff that had been lying there ever since Sirius had moved in. Remus also knew that it would be hazardous to open the wardrobe after Sirius' attempt to tidy up, but at the moment this was the smallest of their problems.

Sirius had deposited the feverish and unconscious teenager on the bed and was sitting on the mattress next to Harry, trying to cool down his fever with a wet cloth on the forehead. He didn't hear them coming into the room, but when Dr. Mitchell stepped next to the bed he turned around towards Remus, a questioning eyebrow raised. Remus didn't say anything, he just nodded assurance at Sirius. Surely his old friend had expected Madam Pomfrey to come bursting into the room, but he could always explain later.

Meanwhile, Dr. Mitchell had his wand out and waved it over Harry's body, a deep frown etched into his face.

"How long has he been like this?"  
Remus stepped closer and shrugged.

"We don't really know. We've not been in contact with him for about three weeks, since he returned from Hogwarts, and when we went to check up on him this afternoon we found him like that. His relatives weren't very informative, but I guess he has been sick for a couple of days now."

"What did they treat him with?"  
Sirius growled lowly and took one of Harry's hands into his.

"Nothing. They put him into quarantine in his bedroom." The tone of his voice indicated well enough what Sirius thought of the way the Dursleys had treated Harry, and though Remus full-heartedly agreed with Sirius' hard feelings towards them, he also knew that at the moment his old friend was ready to rip their throats out for what they had done. And it was better to distract him from that murderous mood before it got the upper hand of him.

Meanwhile, Dr. Mitchell had stopped his examination and was rummaging around in his bag, pulling out bottles and vials.

"Did he eat or drink anything during the past hours?"

Again, Remus could only shrug.

"I don't think so. From what his relatives said, they've been trying to keep away from him for the past days. Sirius gave him two glasses of water before we left, but that's been it."

Sirius impatiently interrupted them. "What's wrong with Harry?"

Dr. Mitchell sighed and wrote something down on a piece of parchment he had pulled out earlier. When he looked up, the worried frown was plainly evident on his face.

"I'm afraid that Remus was right in his assumption. What we have here is a severe case of Dragonpox."

Sirius shook his head.

"But that's a children's sickness! Harry is nearly sixteen, he shouldn't get them anymore."

Mitchell, much unlike Sirius, remained calm and lined up the bottles on the bedside table.

"My guess is that he has never been exposed to them when he was a child. From all that I know, young Mr. Potter here grew up amongst muggles, so it's not that unlikely that he didn't get them as a child. He must have caught it on the train after the school year. We could keep on guessing about this for hours, but there are more important questions now than how he got them.

Our patient has hit puberty a while back, and now that he is no child anymore, his body can't deal all that easily with the illness. He has a fever of 106°, that's alarming. And as we have to assume that he hasn't been treated in any way until now we'll have to do something quickly. I'll give him a strong fever-reducing potion and a sedative right now, and in about thirty minutes we'll see if that has any effects."

Remus swallowed.

"And if not?"  
"If not, I'd strongly advice that you bring him into a hospital immediately. I can do only so much here, if this doesn't help he has to be treated somewhere better equipped. If the potions show effects, I'll stabilize him and give you instructions for further treatment. Could you hold him up for a moment, please?"

Sirius carefully lifted Harry up into a sitting position and flinched slightly as this movement was followed by a low moan from Harry. Mitchell unscrewed the tops on two of his small bottles and tipped them towards Harry's mouth. As soon as the liquids ran past his lips, the teenager greedily swallowed them down, seemingly not noticing their taste at all.

Sirius lowered Harry back onto the mattress and threw a questioning glance at Remus and Dr. Mitchell. It was Remus who after some moments broke the silence.

"What would have happened if Harry had received no treatment at all?"

Mitchell looked up sharply.

"I can't tell you for sure. Children's sicknesses are harder on adults, and far more dangerous. They can get lethal, but that depends on the sickness and the physical condition of the person. Considering Mr. Potter's state right now, I'd say that if nothing had been done against that fever, then it would have become quite critical. He's not out of the woods now, as it is."

Sirius growled lowly in his throat and Remus decided that it might be the right time to do something for the Dursleys' reputation, if only to keep his old friend form becoming a real-life murderer.

"But even if his relatives had taken him to see a doctor, surely a muggle doctor would have been quite unable to treat a wizarding illness anyway."

"They wouldn't have recognized it as something unusual. To them, it would have seemed like an extremely severe case of chickenpox and they would have treated it as such. And while it's not exactly the same illness, a muggle doctor would have managed to get the fever down. That's the most important thing in this case. The pustules would have gone away on their own, the fever is the part about which we'll have to worry. A muggle doctor would maybe not have been able to cure him, but he'd have been able to stabilize his system enough so that it could fight off the illness on its own after some time." Mitchell shrugged. "But at the moment it's quite futile to worry about that."

Remus now was convinced that this whole conversation had not been one of his better ideas. Not only did Sirius still growl, now he also looked ready to kill the Dursleys, should he ever encounter them again. Remus decided to have a close eye on this never happening in the near future. Or the distant future. Actually, Remus never wanted to encounter any of the Dursleys again, he himself was far too angry for that.

Sirius turned and sat down on the edge of Harry's bed again, taking up once more the task of trying to cool his godson down. Dr. Mitchell grabbed Remus by the sleeve of his robe and led him out of the room. When the door closed behind them, Remus found himself under a scrutinizing gaze of the smaller wizard.

"How official is my visit here?"

Remus frowned, his mind still being on Harry's sickness and thus he didn't really understand what his father's old friend was talking about.

"What do you mean?"  
"Remus, I read the papers and I'm not stupid. I know that the man behind this door is Sirius Black", he raised his hands to stop Remus from interrupting him, "and from all that I know he has every right to be here. I've read about the trial. But in that room behind us is also a very sick Harry Potter, and I'm fairly sure that he is not supposed to be in your spare bedroom at the moment, is he?

All I want to know is how much of my visit here I have to forget when I leave later on."  
Remus had to smile at those words.

"You won't have to forget anything, I think. It's true what I told you, Sirius is Harry's godfather. He doesn't officially have the custody for him yet, but until we went to check on him this afternoon, we had not planned to take him out of his relatives' care at all. But we just couldn't leave him there. 

However, we haven't planned on keeping it a secret that we've taken Harry. I've already sent an owl to Professor Dumbledore."  
Mitchell frowned.

"Why him?"  
"Because he is far more concerned about Harry's safety than the Ministry will ever be. And because the Ministry officials will listen to him in case they try to take Harry away from here again when they get wind of what happened today. At least they'll listen more than they would to Sirius or me, being what we are."

Remus didn't need to elaborate further what he was talking about, Mitchell knew what he had wanted to say. A werewolf and an ex-convict. Not the kind of people the Ministry usually gave a lot of time to explain things.

"Let's look after Harry again. Maybe his fever has gone down in the meantime."  
Remus and Dr. Mitchell returned to the room, only to find Sirius still bent over the unmoving and irresponsive form of Harry. Hearing them come into the room, Sirius turned.

"I get the feeling that his fever has dropped during the past minutes."

Mitchell grunted something and went across the room towards the bed. He waved his wand across Harry's head once, then checked something on his parchment. When he looked up, some of the frown had disappeared from his face.

"It seems that he's reacting to the fever-reducing potion. His fever has dropped to 102° and the sedative has put him at rest."

"That means he doesn't need to be brought to a hospital?"

Mitchell sighed and wrote something down on a new sheet of parchment.

"I'd be more at ease if you would do so, nevertheless. But it isn't absolutely necessary as long as you keep a close eye on him. As long as he reacts to his medication and his fever doesn't get that high again I don't see any reason why he shouldn't stay here."

He handed Remus the piece of parchment he had been writing on.

"You need to get those potions from the pharmacy for him. The first is a stronger fever-reducing potion than you have here. He should take it every six hours until the fever breaks and constantly stays around 100°. Else I wrote you a prescription for a sleeping potion in case he doesn't sleep calmly and a potion to treat the pustules. That should be done every six hours as well, I guess that as soon as he's strong enough again he'll start scratching himself."

Remus grimaced as he remembered his own experiences with Dragonpox. It had not been as bad as it was with Harry now, but he clearly remembered the constant itch and – even worse – the disgusting smell of the potion with which the pustules were treated. Nearly every wizarding child got Dragonpox at some point, and all of them hated the disgusting potion. He guessed hat Harry would make no exception there.

Remus took the parchment from Dr. Mitchell and nodded.

"Is there something else we need to take care of?"  
Mitchell shrugged.

"I guess he'll be out of it for a while now. You need to make sure that he gets enough liquids, a glass of water at least every two or three hours, depending on how high the fever is. If he's thirsty, you should allow him to drink as much as he wants. I'll come back tomorrow afternoon and have a look at him. If he's not awake and coherent by then, we'll have to get some nutrition potions into him, but we'll see that tomorrow. 

Check his temperature at least every hour, and if the fever goes up to 103° or104° again despite the potions, call me immediately."

He packed everything except from another bottle of fever-reducing potion back into his bag and shook Sirius' hand. Remus went downstairs with him and opened the door for the small wizard.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Dr. Mitchell."

The older man turned on the doorstep and smiled up at his own former patient. 

"That's all right, Remus. Send Richard my greetings, will you?"

"Of course. He said he'd be in England in a couple of weeks, I guess he'll drop by then."

"I'm looking forward to it. Until tomorrow, then. Good bye Remus."  
"Good bye, Dr. Mitchell. And thank you again."

The small man winked once more at Remus, then he turned and apparated out of the front yard. Remus closed the door and sighed. At least now they knew what was wrong with Harry, and they knew how to deal with it. He'd better get his robe and go into town to fetch the potions for him. From all that he knew about treating sick children and teenagers – and admittedly that wasn't all that much – Sirius and he would be in for an interesting night.

Remus was just about to turn for the staircase again when a crackling sound from the yard announced that somebody had just apparated. Opening the door, Remus found himself face-to-face with Albus Dumbledore, and the Hogwarts headmaster didn't look all that amused. Remus gestured him into the house.

"Albus, thank you for coming immediately."

"Remus, I just hope Sirius has a good explanation for taking Harry out of his relatives' care without anybody's knowledge. I thought I had been explicit that for once in his life he'd better do what he's told and stay put until things are settled officially. I thought I had been quite explicit about it, wasn't I?"

Remus calmingly raised his hands and took the older man's outer robe from him. 

"Sirius had a very good reason, Albus. We just wanted to check on Harry – and yes, I know that he wasn't even supposed to do that, but there was reason to worry. Nobody heard of Harry all summer, and I went with Sirius to make sure that he didn't do anything stupid. But when we arrived there...well, we just couldn't leave him there, Albus. Not this time."

"What is wrong?" Dumbledore's features softened somewhat as he saw the confusion and worry in Remus' face.

"Harry is sick. Very sick, to be precise. He has Dragonpox that weren't treated for days, and he was burning up with fever. There was no other choice than to take him out of there as his relatives didn't do anything to help him. I know that we've taken him out of the protection around his relatives' home, but we've had a good reason to do so. I immediately wrote you so that we can think about protecting him here as long as it takes for him to get well again."

Dumbledore nodded. "I see. Has a doctor looked at him? Poppy is not at Hogwarts at the moment."

"I know, that's why I called Dr. Mitchell, and old friend of my father. He's already treated me back when I had Dragonpox as a child, and he has thoroughly checked Harry and given him something against the fever."

"Good. Then we maybe take a short moment to talk about temporarily warding the house. Where is Sirius?" Dumbledore chuckled as he saw the look in Remus' eyes.

"I take it he's with Harry, then?"

"Yes, glued to the spot next to him. Upstairs, the first door on the left."

Dumbledore nodded and went up the stairs, quickly followed by Remus. He'd plan out the warding of the house with Albus and Sirius – as far as Sirius was open for any kind of conversation over his worry – then he'd go and get the potions for Harry, and maybe with a little luck they'd be able to establish something akin to normality by this afternoon. Hopefully.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

When consciousness slowly returned to Harry, he immediately wished it hadn't. His head felt as if it had been used as an anvil and his whole body ached. No, not his whole body, Harry realized after some moments. Parts of his body itched badly, and it appeared to be those parts which he couldn't have reached even if he had been strong enough to move his arms.

And wherever he was, it was hot here. For a moment Harry contemplated to open his eyes, get out of bed and over towards the window, but he quickly dismissed the idea again. It was highly unlikely that he would have the energy to even sit up. He only wondered why Aunt Petunia hadn't banged on his door yet with the shill shriek for him to wake up and prepare breakfast. Well, maybe she had realized that he was in no condition to do anything just about now.

Something cold and wet touched his forehead and Harry immediately flinched away from the contact. As hot as he felt, the cool touch seemed to hurt more than it did good. Harry couldn't really move away from it, so he tried to vocalize his protest against the treatment. But all that came out was a low moan.

"Shhh, I know it's not pleasant, but it helps."

Then somebody softly stroke his cheek. 

Now Harry was completely and utterly confused. He had been sick before – at least Harry assumed that he was sick now – but that had never really bothered anybody. Nobody had ever sat by his side, or tried to cool his fever before, let alone comforted him in any way. It just wasn't something Aunt Petunia did, at least not for him. And hadn't it been a male voice speaking to him? But who?

Uncle Vernon? Harry would have laughed, if he had been able to. No, Uncle Vernon wouldn't care at all if Harry was sick or not. 

But then, who?

Harry decided that it would be worth the effort to open up one eye. For a moment, all he could see was a blinding brightness, then a dark blurred shaped leaned over him and blocked out the light. Harry closed his eye again, he couldn't really make anything out without his glasses, anyway.

"Harry? Are you awake?"

Harry knew that voice, he just could not pinpoint its owner at the moment. Somehow it was familiar, but trying to find out where he knew it from was like trying to grasp something in thin air. It just evaded him time and time again.

The voice had been asking him something, maybe he should answer it. Maybe that way he would find out whom it belonged to. But what was it the man had asked him?

Harry turned his head to the right, but that movement already hurt so much that he moaned again.

"Harry?"

The cool cloth and the hand were back again, and slowly Harry's thoughts were getting more coherent. He tried to open his eyes again, and this time he managed to hold them open. The blurred shape over him was blocking out most of the light, now he only needed to find out who it was.

"What…?"

Alright, talking didn't really work yet, but at least it had gotten the other's attention.

"Shhh, don't speak. You're sick and have a high fever, but you'll be alright in no time. As soon as Remus comes up with another dose of potion you'll be asleep again."

A hand combed soothingly through his sweaty hair.

"In no time you'll be alright again."

Something the man had said had struck Harry's recognition. But what?

The sound of an opening door distracted Harry from his fever-dazzled thoughts for a moment. Somebody came into the room and sat down on the other side of his mattress.

"How is he, Padfoot?"  
Padfoot? Sounded oddly familiar…

"I think he's a bit better. He's been reacting to what I did, and a moment ago he even tried to talk. Though his fever is still awfully high."

Something was moved to his left.

"Hold him up, will you?"

A pair of hands grabbed hold of Harry's shoulders and gently eased him up into a sitting position. Nevertheless, Harry moaned. The movement hurt and where the hands touched him the itch grew even stronger. If he only knew what was wrong with him.

Something was pressed against his lips and the voice spoke to him again, this time gently coaxing.

"Come on kiddo, drink this. You'll feel better afterwards, I promise."

A cool liquid ran into his mouth and Harry had no choice but to swallow. He immediately felt drowsy and consciousness fled again. But Harry would not allow himself to fall asleep before he had solved the puzzle of who those two mysterious men were. 

The second man had called the first one Padfoot. Padfoot, that was his godfather Sirius. But Sirius could not be with him, he was still on the run from the Ministry. Wasn't he? But then again, that voice had sounded astonishingly like Sirius…

Before Harry could find the solution for this mystery, he was fast asleep again.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

The next time Harry was woken up from something he couldn't define at first. It took him some moments to realize that somebody was pinning down his wrists while he frantically tried to move his hands. But whoever was restraining him just didn't understand how bad it itched. How bad his whole body itched.

"Harry! Harry stop scratching! That only makes it worse."

The blanket was pulled away from his chest and a cloth with some sort of liquid was wiped across several spots on his chest and stomach. It smelled disgustingly and burned a little, but at least the itching stopped immediately. Then the blanket was pulled back up.

Harry opened his eyes and this time it didn't hurt as it had done before. Everything was blurred again, but after a moment the other person slid his glasses onto his face. Harry blinked once or twice as the world got into focus again. And this time there was no mistaking, no puzzle-solving about who the other person in the room was. Harry recognized him immediately. But that didn't mean that he was not puzzled by what he saw, not at all.  
"Sirius?"

His godfather smiled down at Harry and ran a hand through his still sweat-matted hair.

"Hey kiddo", he said softly, "good to see you awake again."

His voice was low, but warm and held a large amount of relief in it. But he had yet to say something that would explain this entire mystery to Harry.

"What…where…how?"

Sirius laughed.

"You're a bit confused at the moment, right? If you want to know what's wrong with you, you are sick. Dragonpox."

Dragonpox? Harry had never heard of that particular illness before, but he decided that he didn't like the sound of it. Not at all. It sounded…dangerous, as stupid as that thought seemed for a nearly sixteen year old teenager. Maybe it was just his personal experience with dragons, but he didn't particularly care about illnesses that were named after his least favourite animals.

"Sounds bad."

He still wasn't the most eloquent person alive, Harry realized, but at least by now he was able to vocalize what was going on in his mind.

Sirius must have caught on his idea about Dragonpox, because he chuckled lowly. Harry just wanted to tell him that it wasn't really funny to be suffering from Dragonpox, whatever illness it was, when his godfather ran his hand through Harry's hair and along his face in a soothing gesture. Harry wasn't used to receiving physical affection, and no matter how comforting the touch was his first instinct was to flinch away from it. Only the fact that he was way too weak to move stopped him from doing so.

"Harry, Dragonpox normally isn't something really dangerous. It's a children's sickness like the chickenpox which muggle-children get sometimes, only that wizarding children usually get it when they're still quite young. You must have caught it on the train back home, and because you're no child anymore and because it wasn't treated immediately, it got a bit dangerous. You've been running a high fever for quite some time."

Harry tried to process this information. Quite some time?

"How long?"

"Three days. Remus and I have fetched you from your relatives' on Wednesday, and now it's Saturday afternoon. You've been awake once yesterday, but the remaining time you were either asleep or drugged to the brim with fever-reducing and sleeping-potions."

Harry frowned.

"Saturday?"

The idea that he was missing three entire days in his memory was not a pleasant one. But before Harry could continue to think about it, his right hand automatically moved towards a particularly nasty itch on his left upper arm and started scratching. As soon as Sirius realized what Harry was doing he gave him a scolding look and gently pulled his hand away by the wrist. Harry struggled against his godfather's hold, but even if he had not been ill he would not have been a match for his godfather when it came to physical strength.

"Don't scratch, Harry. It only makes the itch worse and the pustules scar over."

Sirius pulled away the blanket from Harry's chest and arms and Harry found that he was not wearing any clothes except from a pair of boxer-shorts. What shocked him even more was that his entire body seemed to be covered in dark purple pustules the size of a needle's head. He looked up at Sirius with wide eyes, but his godfather didn't see the panicked look. He didn't appear to be particularly concerned about Harry's pustules, either. Instead, he was rummaging on the bedside table for something. Harry immediately used Sirius' distraction for another good scratch on his upper arm, but a scolding look from his godfather made him stop immediately.

"There are other ways to keep you from scratching, you know? Ways that aren't comfortable at all, like the hand-numbing hexes my mum used on me. Really, you're worse than your father when he had them, and he was only seven."

"But it itches."  
Sirius looked at Harry and started to laugh. In his hands, Harry realized, he was holding a brown bottle and a cotton cloth.

"Alright, let's see what we can do against that itching. I tell you, this stuff smells horrible, but it does wonders against the pustules."

He shrugged.

"I guess it's something every wizarding child has to go through once. And we've all survived despite the smell, though it might sound unbelievable right now."

That said, Sirius started to cover the pustules on Harry's upper body with the pinkish lotion from the bottle. He was right, the potion stank horribly, but Harry remembered it as the smell that had been there when he had woken up earlier on. 

That the potion was smelling nasty was not bothering him, he got enough of those in Snape's class at school. No, what was really bothering him was the fact that his godfather was applying it on his pustules, just as if Harry was a five year old kid who couldn't do it himself. And he didn't even want to think about what this might have been like during the past three days. Weakly, he tried to grab Sirius' wrist.  
"I can do that."  
Sirius chuckled again.

"I've done that for three days now, I should think that would take the embarrassment out of this procedure."

Harry groaned and felt himself blush.

"I wasn't conscious then."

Sirius smiled at the protest but continued to work over Harry' pustules nevertheless.

"Listen kiddo, you're sick. Sick as in 'not able to take care of yourself on your own', so humour me and allow me to do that, please."

Harry nodded his consent, but his face remained flushed red.

"Can you sit up on your own?"

Harry tried to sit, but found that his hands and arms would not support his weight just yet. He shook his head weakly.

"Not really."

Sirius shrugged.

"Never mind."

He wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him up into a sitting position.

"Think you can stay upright until I'm finished with your back?"  
Harry nodded, still completely embarrassed at the thought of being helpless and partly immobile, just like a small child. Sirius must have sensed his discomfort because he handed him another cloth and the bottle with the potion.

"Here, you can take care of your arms and legs if you want."

He pulled the blanket away from Harry's legs and revealed them to be covered in the same pustules as his chest and supposedly his back was, too.  
For some moments both applied the medicine in silence, until finally all Harry's questions caught up with him.

"Sirius?"

"Hmmm?"

"Where are we?"

"We're in the spare bedroom of Remus' house. He's in town at the moment, getting some more fever-reducing potion for you, but he should be back soon."

Harry frowned. Remus, that was Remus Lupin, his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who had come back to teach at Hogwarts last year. Harry didn't know where exactly Professor Lupin lived, but he definitely knew that wherever it was, it surely was hidden carefully. For one because of Professor Lupin's lycanthropy, and secondly because Voldemort and his Death Eaters had a vital interest in bringing down all of Albus Dumbledore's supporters, his godfather and his DADA professor being somewhere on top of the list. Harry frowned. It would have been a lot less dangerous if Sirius had just brought him to the Hogwarts infirmary. At least then he needn't have worried that Harry's presence might attract unwanted attention to them. Merlin knew that Sirius didn't need any unwanted attention right now.

"Why did you bring me here?"

Harry felt Sirius stop in his ministrations.

"Why? Harry, you were sick and that excuse of a family didn't take care of you. They didn't worry about you at all, not even when your fever became so high that it got dangerous for you. I couldn't have left you with them, not with a clear conscience."

Harry shook his head. That was not what he had meant, and Sirius should know that.

"No, why here and not Hogwarts? It's too dangerous with me around, you could get caught."

Sirius stopped applying the potion to Harry's back and shifted his position, so that they were face to face again. Harry didn't know if he just imagined it, but he thought his godfather was grinning somewhat sheepishly. He scratched his head with his left hand, messing up his ponytail in the process, just as if he was searching for the right words to say something.

"Erm, you see Harry, a couple of things have happened since we met the last time."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Like what?"  
"Like the little run-in I've had with those Ministry Aurors slightly less than a week ago."

"What?"

It wasn't the peak of eloquence, but at the moment Harry couldn't seem to think or say anything else.

"What happened?"

"I was lucky. Albus got wind of what had happened and stopped them from feeding me to the Dementors. I still don't know how, but he convinced Fudge of giving me a trial."

Harry's eyes had the size of saucers right now.

"You've had…but then…then you're free?"  
Sirius nodded, a huge grin on his face.

"It's still a mystery to me how and why, but yes, I'm free. The Ministry sent somebody to fetch you for the trial, but he came back saying that you were sick. That's why Remus and I went to Privet Drive on Wednesday, we were quite worried because nobody had heard from you all summer."  
He ruffled Harry's hair affectionately.

"Seems you'll be stuck with me for a little longer from now on. At least that's what I hope, the custody thing is still not settled officially. And you still have to agree, of course."

As weak as he still was, Harry felt himself smile broadly.

"Are you kidding? If you really want me here, then I'd be glad to move in."

Sirius smiled.

"Great. Now, considering the fact that I don't want to have that disgusting potion all over me, I suggest we delay all hugging until you're fine again, okay?"

Harry nodded, smiling.

"Okay."

"I guess you're also hungry, right? From all that I know, Nutrition potions are not really good for filling your stomach."  
"Starved, yes."

"Good. Wait here, I'll be back with something to eat in a moment."

With another smile, Sirius got up from the edge of the bed where he had been sitting and walked over towards the door. Harry obediently settled back against his pillows and waited for him to come back. Not that he could have done anything else, even if he had wanted it.

It took Sirius only a few minutes until he was back, a tray in his hands. He set the tray in Harry's lap and settled back into his position on the edge of the mattress. Harry eyed the tray suspiciously.

"Soup?"  
"Soup. You haven't eaten anything solid in days, and to be honest, when we fetched you, you didn't look as if your relatives had fed you extremely well, either. I'm not so sure your stomach could handle anything other than soup right now."

Harry sighed and picked up the spoon. It didn't look as if there was anything he could do to convince Sirius otherwise, so he obediently spooned down his soup. He was nearly finished with the bowl of chicken broth when the door to his room opened and Remus Lupin entered the room, a goblet in his hands. He looked at Harry and immediately a huge smile spread across his face.

"Harry! Good to see you awake again. You had us a bit worried there during the past days."

Harry blushed a little.

"Sorry, Professor."  
Remus shook his head and sat down on the other side of Harry's bed.

"First of all, it's not Professor when not in class. Your dad would have had a fit if he heard that." He chuckled. "Call me Remus, alright?"

"Alright, thanks."

"Good. And secondly, you really don't need to apologize, especially not for being sick. It's not as if you did that on purpose."

Harry nodded at him, but the movement made him dizzy and his head started to spin. He had not felt really fine before, but right now he started feeling even worse. Again. Sirius put a hand on his shoulder and watched him concernedly.

"Harry? Harry, what's wrong?"  
Harry breathed in deeply and tried to will down his nausea.

"Remember what you said about my stomach not being able to handle anything other than soup at the moment?"

Sirius nodded, frowning.

"Yes?"

"Well, it seems I can't even handle soup right now."

"Are you going to be sick?"  
Harry nodded, but before he or Sirius could do anything about it, Harry lost his battle against his stomach and heaved violently, throwing up the contents of his stomach right into Sirius' lap. Harry stared at his godfather in horror, expecting him to start yelling any moment. He didn't notice the look of extreme concern Sirius eyed him with.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Sirius. I'm…"  
He pressed a hand over his mouth as another wave of nausea swept through him.

Reacting immediately, Remus scooped Harry up in his arms and with a surprising speed carried him across the corridor into the bathroom where he deposited him in front of the toilet. Harry attempted to give him a grateful smile before he heaved again and lost the rest of the soup into the toilet. His stomach contracted painfully, and Harry couldn't help the tears that ran down his face. It seemed that all his bodily functions didn't obey his will anymore.

He had to be a pitiful sight, Harry thought. He was wearing nothing except from a pair of blue boxer-shorts, his whole body was covered in purple pustules and pinkish lotion, he was pale, had a fever and was currently crouching in front of a toilet, crying and throwing up for all that he was worth. And to make things even worse, he had thrown up all over Sirius' lap. He didn't even want to imagine what his godfather must think of him now. Especially now. That was really not what Harry had imagined living with Sirius to start like.

After some long moments the violent retching subsided and Harry let his head fall on his chest, panting. Only now did he realize that somebody was gently rubbing his back and smoothing his hair from his face with the other hand.

"Feel better?"

Harry looked up and realized that it was Sirius, minus the vomit on his jeans and shirt. He nodded weakly and allowed his godfather to turn him around, pull him up and seat him on the edge of the bathtub. To top it all, he was shivering violently by now. Remus came over towards them with a bathrobe which Sirius immediately wrapped around Harry's shivering form. He then reached over towards the sink and wetted a washcloth to wipe the remaining vomit from Harry's face.

Remus handed him a glass of water which Harry took with still shaking hands.

"Here, drink this. I'm sure I have something to settle your stomach here, just give me a moment."

Harry drank the water and put the glass away. He felt tired, drained and still sick, and all he wanted now was curl up, close his eyes and sleep until this whole Dragonpox-disaster was over. He leaned back against Sirius and relaxed into his godfather's arms. Sirius immediately tightened his hold on him.

"Tired, Harry? Come on, let's get you back to bed."

Harry nodded weakly into Sirius' chest and felt himself being lifted up and carried to his bed again. He knew that he was still scrawny and thin for his age, though he had grown a bit during the past year, but after all he was nearly sixteen and should not be carried around like a five-year old. Within moments and with a couple of wand-waves from Sirius, Harry's bed was covered in crispy clean white sheets and Harry was settled back under the blanket. Sirius put a hand on Harry's forehead and muttered a spell, then he sighed.

"Your fever has gone up again, it's best if you sleep now. Alright, kiddo?"

Harry nodded, but grasped Sirius' hand tightly.

"Sorry."

Above him, he could see Sirius frown.

"Whatever for?"

"Throwing up on you."

Sirius smiled and smoothed down Harry's hair, a gesture that seemed to quickly become habitual for him.

"No need to be sorry, you couldn't help that. And it was nothing a quick spell couldn't clean away, so don't worry about it."

Sirius looked up as Remus came into the room, a glass with something that looked like milk in his hands. He put the glass on the bedside table next to the goblet he had brought in earlier. 

"Alright, the white potion will settle your stomach again, and the other one will bring the fever down and put you asleep for a couple of hours. You'll be better when you wake up."

Harry nodded and accepted the glass Remus handed him. While Sirius held him in a half-sitting position, Harry gulped down first the stomach- then the fever potion. His eyelids became heavier and heavier, and Harry knew that he would not remain awake for very much longer. Sirius eased him back onto the mattress.

"Sleep now, Harry."

"Hmmm."

Sirius chuckled.

"Somebody already sounds tired."

Harry nodded, but before he allowed his eyes to drop close he grabbed for Sirius' hand.

"Sirius? Do me a favour?"  
Sirius smiled and nodded.

"Sure, just out with it."  
"Stay here?"

If he was already carried around and cared for like a small child, he could as well act like one. Especially since he really wanted his godfather to be there when he woke up again. 

Sirius smiled fondly at him.

"Sure. Just go to sleep, I'll be there when you wake up."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes, finally allowing sleep to take over.

Harry's sleep was anything but peaceful and undisturbed. He had the feeling that he could not sleep for more than half an hour straight without waking up. The only thing that calmed him was that true to his word, Sirius was sitting by his side whenever he woke.

Harry's fever had to be climbing up again, because during the short periods when he was awake he could hardly think coherent.

Sirius was constantly trying to cool him down with the cool and wet cloth on his face and chest, and once Harry got the impression that his entire body got wet and cold, but he quickly dismissed it as fantasy when he woke up again next time and found himself warm and dry in his bed. 

In regular intervals both adults forced another potion down his throat upon which Harry felt a bit better and his sleep got a bit deeper.

Harry didn't know for how long he had been in this state, but eventually exhaustion caught up with him and he fell into a deep and less disturbed sleep.

When Harry woke up again it took him some moments to remember where he was and why his head was feeling so dizzy. He was lying on his back looking up at the ceiling while he was trying to remember everything that had happened.

He had been at the Dursleys, and then Sirius and Remus had fetched him. And now he was sick. Dragonpox, Sirius had said. As he remembered the Dragonpox, he immediately pulled away the blanket from his arms and upper chest and looked whether he had only imagined it or whether he was truly covered in purple pustules.

He was covered in pustules, and from the looks (and smell) of it, they had been just recently treated with that stinking potion again.

Harry pulled the blanket up again and turned his head to look around in the room. His bedside table was covered with potion bottles, goblets, used cloths, a water jug and empty glasses and other things Harry didn't immediately recognize.

A smile crept over Harry's face as his eyes fell onto the sleeping form of his godfather. Sirius was still sitting in the chair next to Harry's bed, and Harry didn't even want to imagine what his godfather's back had to feel like.

Sirius was bent over towards the bed, his arms crossed on the edge of the mattress and his head resting on his arms. He seemed to be fast asleep, and judged from the exhausted look on his face and the deep rings under his eyes he would not wake up so easily. 

Harry felt a stab of guilt knot up his insides. Sirius was in this uncomfortable situation just because Harry had asked him to stay at his bedside. Harry really didn't know what he had been thinking. He must have been feverish when he had requested Sirius to stay with him. He was no small child anymore, he really didn't need to be pampered like one.

Harry admitted that it was a nice feeling to know that somebody had been sitting beside him all night, and to see his godfather being there upon waking up, but who was he to demand this from Sirius just so that he felt more comfortable at waking. Merlin knew Sirius had enough else to worry about.

Silently, the door to the room was opened and Harry saw Remus come into the room carrying a tray in front of him. He seemed to be stifling a hearty laugh when he took in the picture of Sirius and Harry on the bed, but he gave Harry a warm smile as he put the tray on the bedside table and sat down on the other side of Harry's bed.

"Good morning Harry."

Carefully, so as not to wake his godfather, Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position. He was pleased to realize that his arms were finally able to support his weight again.

"Morning."

"How are you feeling?"  
Harry shrugged.

"Better, I think. But I don't really know, the last time I thought that, I threw up all over Sirius only moments later, so I don't want to judge too early."

Remus laughed, then put his hand on Harry's forehead and felt his temperature. It was a strangely intimate gesture, something Harry was not used to yet. His first instinct was to flinch away from the contact, but he kept his reflexes in tight check and allowed it to happen, waiting for Remus' assessment. The older man didn't seem to grant that much importance to the small physical contact, but Harry guessed that Remus had checked his temperature often enough during the past days and didn't really think about it anymore. He kept his hand on Harry's forehead for a moment, frowned, then took out his wand and waved it around Harry's head once. Harry didn't quite understand the spell that was muttered, but it had to be a wizarding way to check the temperature, because the frown quickly disappeared from Remus' face again.

"Well, it seems your fever has broken for good. Finally."

The last word was said like a sigh and Harry glanced up curiously. 

"Don't tell me I've been out for days again."

Remus shook his head and laughed, one hand combing a lock of sandy brown hair from out of his eyes.

"No, not for days. Slightly more than twenty hours, though. After you threw up, your fever came back with a vengeance, and two hours later it was so high that we called the doctor again."

Harry frowned. He didn't remember seeing a doctor. He told Remus as much, but the older man just smiled knowingly and nodded.

"I guess you wouldn't, you weren't really conscious that time. We had to put you in the tub with cold water for half an hour to get the fever down until Dr. Mitchell arrived. He then gave you some stronger fever-reducing potions until the fever broke again. He said that children's sicknesses are always more dangerous if an adult or older teenager gets them, that's why you were running such a high fever. 

Sirius was a bit beside himself with worry. In the end, Dr. Mitchell threatened to sedate him if he didn't stop fretting."

While Remus was laughing about this, Harry glanced guiltily over towards his godfather, who was still sleeping as if nothing in the world could disturb him. Remus caught that glance and brought Harry's attention back to himself with a hand on his shoulder. Harry's green eyes glanced up at him and he tried to calm the teenager with a smile.

"He'd not have left even if you hadn't asked him to stay with you. He couldn't fret over you for such a long time, humour him and let him do it now. He'd feel useless otherwise, and between the two of us – he's insufferable when he feels useless."

Harry looked at Sirius again and smiled. Somehow, Remus was right, Harry knew that. Sirius surely would have stayed up with him even if he hadn't asked him to, but nevertheless Harry couldn't get rid of the guilty feeling that Sirius would be a lot more comfortable if he didn't have Harry to worry about.

"Maybe we should bring him into his bed. He'd be more comfortable there."

Remus shook his head.

"Nah, that wouldn't be a good idea. He'd only be angry with me for moving him away from you when he wakes up. Besides, I think he's quite comfortable just to sleep now, I don't think he'd particularly care where it is.

Right, I originally came up because it's time for your medication."

Remus turned towards the bedside table and the tray he had brought over earlier. He grabbed one goblet and handed it over to Harry.

"That's your fever-reducing potion. You should take it for another twelve hours or so, just to make sure that the fever doesn't come back."

Harry obediently took the goblet and drank its contents. He would not be sad when he didn't have to take the potion anymore, its taste wasn't exactly pleasant. Remus took the empty goblet back from him and handed him a glass of water.

"Do you want something to eat?"

Harry nearly choked on the water.

"I don't think that would be very wise. Remember what happened last time I ate something?"  
Remus laughed and glanced over towards the still sleeping Sirius.

"Harry, you can't stop eating forever just because you threw up into Sirius' lap once."

"I can try."

Remus laughed.

"Oh, sure you could. But if your relationship towards food is only slightly similar to your father's, then I think you won't last longer than half a day or so."

Harry shrugged.

"Should be worth a try. It's just that it was an experience I don't want to repeat anytime soon. Being sick isn't my favourite way of spending the holidays, you know? Besides, it's pretty embarrassing."

Remus just smiled gently and placed a plate with toast on Harry's lap.

"Just eat them. Dr. Mitchell said you threw up because the sickness was wreaking havoc in your system, but that it should not be any problem for you to eat something solid as long as you take a little care as to what you eat."

Harry was hungry, he couldn't deny that. But the experience of throwing up was still quite fresh in his mind, and as he had told Remus, he had no intention to repeat it anytime soon. For some moments he fought an inner battle about whether or not to eat the toast, but in the end hunger won over caution and Harry took a large bite off one of the slices. He chewed it thoroughly, swallowed and waited for some moments. His stomach didn't protest in any way, on the contrary it demanded more of the food. Throwing all hesitancy over board, Harry hungrily devoured the rest of the bread on the plate. Remus watched the scene with a huge smile on his face.

"Told you your stomach could handle it."

Harry lifted his hand and waved it, signalling uncertainty.

"I'll wait for a couple of minutes before I make my final judgement about that. I'd rather not mess up your clothes as well."

Remus shook his head.

"One of the big advantages of magic is that cleaning up any kind of mess is rather easy. So don't worry about that."

Harry handed the empty plate back to Remus and turned his head to where Sirius was still sleeping.

"How long has he been out?"  
Remus shrugged.

"I don't know exactly. The last time that I saw him awake was maybe six hours ago. When I checked on you an hour ago, he was sleeping peacefully. I don't think he'll be up again for the rest of the afternoon."

Harry nodded and thought about it for a moment. Something Remus had said had struck him as odd, but what? Then he knew.

"If Sirius was sleeping, then it was you who treated me with the potion?"  
Harry gestured at the pustules on his arms, which were covered in a relatively fresh layer of the pink lotion. He couldn't help the blush that was creeping on his cheeks again. Not only Sirius, but now also Remus had been nursing him like a small child. And he didn't even want to think about the incident when he had been put in the bathtub last night. He didn't remember it, but nevertheless he felt pretty embarrassed about it.

Remus watched Harry attentively and saw his cheeks flushing as he asked that question. He nodded at the self-conscious teenager.

"Well, when I came up an hour ago you were just about to scratch yourself bloody." He shrugged. "I didn't want to risk bringing Sirius' wrath upon me. No need to be embarrassed about it."

Harry clearly didn't agree with that point of view, but he decided to let that matter rest for the moment. 

"Isn't there something we can do to make it at least a bit more comfortable for Sirius? I don't like the idea of him twisting his spine while sitting here."

Remus smiled and thought for a moment. Eventually, he nodded and pulled out his wand.

"Yes, I think we can do something about this."

He waved his wand and within moments, levitated everything from the bedside table to the floor and transfigured the bedside table into a comfortable looking cot. 

"Alright, now for the difficult part."

But Sirius didn't seem to realize that Remus levitated him from his chair to the cot, then put the chair aside and moved the cot right next to Harry's bed.

"Better?"

Harry smiled and nodded.

"Yes, thank you."

"You're welcome.

So, what do you want to do now that you're awake?"

Harry shrugged.

"I really don't know. I still have a Transfiguration essay to write…"

Remus looked at him as if Harry had grown a second head.

"You want to do homework. Now. You're sick and lying in bed, a position that any teenager would use to let himself get spoilt rotten, and you want to do your homework? You can't be serious."

Harry shrugged again.

"I really don't know anything else to keep myself occupied. Maybe read something, or write an owl to Ron."

Remus shook his head.

"How about a game of chess?"

Harry frowned.

"Don't you have anything else to do?" Seeing Remus flinch, Harry quickly added. "No, sorry, I didn't want it to sound like that. It's just – you really don't have to sit up with me if you have something else you'd be rather doing."

Remus smiled.

"Well, I don't have anything to do. If you want, I'll make us a pot of tea and some more toast, and then I come back up with the chess set. At least it's better than watching Sirius sleep, I'd think. He's not all that interesting to watch, and from what I remember from our time at school, he drools."

Harry smiled back, genuinely.

"Sounds good, thanks."

Remus and Harry spent the rest of the afternoon playing chess against each other. Harry had to admit that he was still extremely confused by everything that had happened during the past days. One moment, he was lying sick in his small bedroom at Privet Drive without anybody caring about it, the next he woke up in his teacher's spare bedroom with Sirius at his side and suffering from Dragonpox. And everything that had happened had happened without Harry consciously realizing it, that was all a bit much to take in.

Not to mention the fact that Remus was his teacher. Of course Harry knew that he had been one of his father's best friends, just like Sirius, but he had gotten to know Remus Lupin as a teacher and not as a friend, that was a bit hard to overcome. Especially since he'd be Harry's teacher again as soon as they returned to Hogwarts.

That's why it was a bit hard for them to get into a real conversation with each other and so they spent the time in a mostly comfortable silence. Sirius was still sleeping soundly and didn't even wake up when Remus' knight violently smashed Harry's king for the third time in a row. Concernedly, Harry turned towards Remus.

"Do you think that's normal?"

Remus just laughed. "Don't worry, I'd be more worried if Sirius didn't sleep as deeply. He hardly slept at all during the past days, he's got a bit to catch up to."

"All just because of me." 

Though Harry had mumbled those words lowly Remus' good hearing had caught them.

"Yes Harry, all because of you."

Harry looked up, startled, but before he could say something Remus continued.

"And I don't think he'd want it any other way, Harry. Sirius wants to take care of you, and that doesn't only concern the times when you're feeling well. You're sick and Sirius exhausted himself a bit because he stayed up with you. So what? That's part of the package and I know that he doesn't mind, so don't worry too much about it."

Harry looked at the sleeping form of his godfather and nodded, though Remus could tell that he was still not entirely convinced of what he had been told. The teenager's hand moved towards his neck and started scratching a spot Remus had missed in his earlier potion treatment. Gently but forcefully Remus pried the hand away and reached for the potion bottle on Harry's bedside table.

"Alright, I guess it's time to look after your pustules again."

Harry groaned but obediently sat up straight and pulled the blanket away from his legs. This didn't get less embarrassing the more often it happened, but there was nothing Harry could do about it.

Remus saw the teenager blush slightly and couldn't help but chuckle. He handed Harry a cloth and the potion bottle.

"How about you do that and I take care of the parts you can't reach?"

Harry nodded, relieved. If he treated as many of his pustules as possible on his own then he'd probably not feel all that embarrassed anymore. Harry managed to cover his entire arms, legs, chest and stomach with the potion – and by now the smell of it made Harry's stomach jerk every time it reached his nostrils – and Remus only had to take care of his back, neck and face. They were done in about fifteen minutes and Harry gratefully sank down into his pillows again.

"How long will it take until I'm well again?"

Remus shrugged and began to clean up the mess on Harry's bedside table.

"I don't really know. Dr. Mitchell said that the worst would be over once the fever's broken for good. It might take another week or ten days until the pustules have vanished and you're up and about again."

Harry groaned.

"A week? I can't keep lying in bed for an entire week!"

Remus smiled down at him, seemingly not noticing the teenager's protest.

"It might do you some good to relax for a change. Besides, the Ministry has still to grant Sirius the custody officially, and he'll need to shape up and ward the house."

Harry frowned.

"Isn't the house warded already?" Harry could not really imagine that his ever-so-careful professor had not protected his house against unwanted intruders, not with his lycanthropy, with Sirius and now even Harry living there. "And why shaping it up?"  
Remus laughed at the teenager's obvious confusion.

"Yes, this house is warded. But I was talking about Sirius' own house or rather, his parent's old house. It's been a while since somebody lived there. As much as I enjoyed having him here for the past year, Sirius has his own house for the two of you to live in. And he was always extremely independent."

"Oh." Harry let that information sink in for a moment. "So Sirius will have to leave for that?"

There was an obvious note of worry in Harry's voice and Remus had to hide a smile.

"We'll first wait what the Ministry says to the custody petition he handed in. Maybe in a couple of days he'll have to look after the house himself, but I don't think it should take too long. And I guess he'll take us with him, anyway, he already said something about needing help with getting the house shaped up again. I wouldn't worry too much about it if I were you. He'll not just leave without a trace."

Harry blushed a bit at that last comment and Remus regretted saying it immediately. He didn't know Harry too well, but he knew that the teenager was craving a family, somebody to rely on completely. And now that this had finally come within reach for him Remus should not make it look like a laughing matter.  Harry definitely didn't need to think that it was wrong to think and feel like he did, Remus was relieved that he was so willing to live with Sirius, trusting his godfather completely and unconditionally.

Remus checked his watch.

"You should try and get some more sleep, Harry. If you need something, just call, I'll be downstairs. Good night."

Harry nodded and leaned back into his mattress and pillows, closing his eyes. 

"Good night."

Exhaustion was catching up quickly and moments later Harry was asleep.


	5. Something To Get Used To

Something To Get Used To 

When Sirius woke up it took him some moments to remember where exactly he was and how he had ended up here. He was lying in his own room at Remus' house, that wasn't all that hard to find out, but he wasn't lying in the bed he had been occupying for the past year. Instead he was lying on a cot that definitely had not been in the room last time he had seen it. 

The bed was standing next to his cot, and as soon as Sirius realized that it was not empty, the reason for his strange sleeping arrangement came back to him. Harry was lying in the bed, trying to cure out his Dragonpox. And Harry was also what obviously had woken him up. In the dim light Sirius could see the teenager rolling around in his sleep, turning restlessly from one side to the other and mumbling incoherent words.

Immediately, Sirius sat bolt upright, skidded over towards Harry on the mattress and put a hand on the teenager's forehead. Harry's skin was still a bit warmer than it was normal, but nowhere as hot as it had been during his fever seizures the days before. So whatever was wrong with the kid, it had nothing to do with the Dragonpox.

"Harry?"

The only answer Sirius received was a low moan and the teenager turned around in his sleep again, stretching out his arms as if to ward off an invisible attacker. There was a layer of sweat on his face and in his hair, the pyjamas clinging to his lithe frame with the moisture. Sirius didn't understand what exactly his godson was muttering in his sleep, but he had the distinct impression that it would be better to wake him up than to let Harry suffer any further from that nightmare.

"Harry? Come on kiddo, wake up!"

Again, Harry only shifted restlessly, hands stretched out in front of him, throwing his head from one side to the other. Sirius put a hand on the teenager's shoulder but immediately drew back when that small contact made Harry flinch and shy away in his sleep.

"Harry, it's me, Sirius. Come on, it's just a nightmare, wake up. Harry!"

Slowly, Sirius was starting to feel helpless. Harry was obviously having a nightmare, but the easiest part of this, the part of waking Harry up, just didn't seem to work. Harry had started talking again, and between the whispers of 'stop' and pleas of 'no, please not' the only other word Sirius could understand was the name 'Cedric', repeated over and over again. Sirius sighed. He should have known that this was still bothering his godson. It had been a year ago, true, but that was not really much time when it was about death and guilt, Sirius knew that. Merlin knew Sirius had ample experience with it. And he knew that he needed to get Harry awake, that he needed to talk about it with the kid.

By now there were some tears streaming over Harry's face, and it pained Sirius nearly physically to see how much his godson still suffered from what had happened over a year ago.

Not shying back this time, Sirius put both of his hands on Harry's shoulders and shook him gently but still forcefully.

"Harry, wake up. Do you hear me?"

It took him some moments, but slowly, Harry's green eyes opened and he stared wildly around the room as if he didn't know exactly where he was and what was happening. All of a sudden, his eyes snapped open widely and he scrambled up into a sitting position. His breath was coming in small gasps, his tear-filled eyes staring at Sirius as if they didn't really see him sitting there.

"Harry?"

For a moment longer Harry stared at his godfather, as if he was fighting an inner struggle as to how to react, but after a short moment another sob wrenched free and he flung himself into Sirius' arms, sobbing into his godfather's chest for all he was worth.

Sirius was quite surprised by this development. Harry had never before been open in giving or receiving physical affection, but now he clung to him as if Sirius was his lifeline. Sirius did the only thing he could think of – he held on tightly and just let his godson cry, waiting patiently until Harry had calmed a little.

Harry himself didn't know why he was doing this, really. He had not meant to break down like that, not in front of Sirius. What would his godfather think of him now? Harry was nearly sixteen and it was already bad enough that he was lying here in bed with a children's sickness, he definitely didn't need to add an emotional outburst to his ever growing list of humiliations. 

But there had been the dream again, the dream about the Triwizard Tournament and the Third Task. The dream in which Cedric had died, in which Voldemort's high-pitched and bodiless voice had said those three words that had ended Cedric's life, just because Harry had told him to take the winning cup together. Those three words that had haunted Harry for the past thirteen months.

_Kill the spare_.

Harry could still hear those words in his mind, could still see the green light flashing to end Cedric's life, could still hear his fellow schoolmate's desperate plea to take his lifeless body home to his parents. And then Harry had woken up, and for the first time he had not been alone after that nightmare. Instead, he had found himself face to face with his godfather.

Harry had nearly told Sirius that everything was alright and that he needn't worry himself with his little nightmare, but there had been a look in Sirius' eyes that told Harry that Sirius understood. Somehow, he knew what had been going on in Harry's mind and somehow, he understood what Harry was going through. Or at least that was what Harry hoped had truly been there. Upon seeing his godfather's face directly after waking up, the urge to just bury himself in the older man's arms and let his physical presence chase away all nightmares had become so overwhelming that Harry had had no choice but to act upon it. And now here he was, clinging tightly onto Sirius, crying for all he was worth. And even as the tears subsided a little and the last shadows of the nightmare had been chased away Harry held on to his godfather, too comfortable but also too embarrassed to let go just now.

Sirius just held him, softly stroking up and down the shivering teenager's back, muttering small encouragements under his breath. After some long minutes, he bent over towards the bedside table on the other side and retrieved a tissue which he handed his godson after he drew back a little from the embrace.

"Feeling a bit better?"

Harry nodded and wiped his face with the tissue, but still taking care that not too much physical distance came between them. In the dim moonlight that filtered through the curtains, Sirius saw Harry nod. He continued watching Harry for some minutes longer, giving the teenager the chance to collect himself a bit more.

"What's wrong, Harry?", he finally asked. Harry just shrugged.

"Nightmare." He didn't add that it was nothing to worry about, because he knew Sirius would detect this as a lie.

"Tell me about it." Sirius' voice was firm, but gentle and when Harry looked up there was so much honestly meant concern in his blue eyes that Harry just could not help it. Despite all his worries and doubts about how much to tell and what to entrust Sirius with, a man he knew neither very long nor very well, everything just flooded out of him and once he had started there was no stopping it. 

He told Sirius that had been weighing on his mind, told him how he had felt during the year of the Triwizard Tournament, about his fighting with Ron, about how he had felt inside when so many others had waved those 'Potter stinks' badges in front of him. He told Sirius how scared he had been during the night of the Third Task, relived those horrifying moments on the graveyard again in a way he could not have done back then in Dumbledore's office, and finally he even told everything that had happened during the past year. How everybody had either avoided, stared at or whispered about him, how the Hufflepuffs had eyed him warily as if each and everyone of them blamed him for what had happened to Cedric. He even – though he couldn't explain why – told Sirius about Cho, what he had felt for her before everything had happened and how she had burst into tears every time she had met him on the corridor after Cedric had died. Maybe he exaggerated things in his tale, but Harry told Sirius things the way he had seen and felt them, and Sirius just sat there and listened to him, not interrupting him once.

When Harry finally fell silent and wiped his face with the tissue again he didn't dare to look up in Sirius' eyes, afraid of what he would find there. He didn't think he could live with the feeling that Sirius pitied him, or that he saw him as a weak little kid instead of the nearly adult teenager that he was.

He was a bit startled when he felt Sirius' hand on his shoulder, pulling him into a tight hug again. It took some long moments until Sirius said something. It was not easy for him to find the right words, he guessed he knew very well how Harry was feeling, but he also knew that he had absolutely no experience in raising teenagers, in taking responsibility for anything or anybody other than himself. Once he had tried, and - well, the outcome was something he didn't like to think about. So what should he tell Harry? Was there anything he could tell him without lying?

"I wish I could tell you that it'll all get better, that the pain will go away soon."

He pulled back a little and looked into Harry's eyes.

"But I don't want to lie to you, Harry. What happened with Cedric and you that night will stay with you. Maybe one day you'll look at it from a different point of view, but until then I'm afraid it'll continue to hurt you. And as much as I wish it was different, there is nothing I can do to help you, nothing other than being there for you whenever you need me."

Harry dropped his eyes in defeat, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the tissue he held in his hands. He should have known it. But somehow, a small part of him had hoped that by telling Sirius everything that was going on in his mind things would get better. He had hoped that his godfather would know a way to make things better, to let him sleep at night and make the pain go away. And now Sirius told him that exactly this wasn't the case. He shouldn't have started talking about it at all, that would have been better. What would Sirius think of him now?

"Harry? Look at me, please."

Hesitantly, Harry looked up and turned his eyes towards Sirius, though he didn't look into his godfather's eyes.

"I hate being that helpless, Harry. If there was anything I could do to make you feel better about it, I'd not hesitate to do it, but I don't know what that could be. The only thing I can do is tell you over and over again what I think about it.

Harry, you didn't want to be in that tournament in the first place. Somebody enrolled you and you did your best to get through this, despite all the things that worked against you. And you did good in the first two tasks, and I'm proud on how you handled them.

And about what happened during the Third Task, there was nothing you could do about it. You didn't know about the Portkey, and you couldn't have known. Crouch and Voldemort had fooled wizards far wiser and more experienced than Cedric and you. Heck, even Dumbledore didn't notice anything amiss for an entire year. Otherwise, none of you would have touched that cup.

Harry, it's a small wonder that you made it out of that graveyard alive, even more so that you managed to bring Cedric's body back as well. When I realized that something had gone wrong with the tournament, I was afraid that something had happened to you. You were out of reach and I could not help you with whatever you were facing. And I was that afraid for you, thinking that you might have died until I saw you hours later in Albus' office."

Sirius cupped Harry's chin with his hands and forced him to look into his eyes.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do or say to make you feel better, Harry. The only thing I can say, and if necessary I'll repeat it over and over again, is that what happened to Cedric was not your fault. You didn't kill him, and you're not responsible for his death. 

You had to witness Cedric's death and I'm afraid that those images will continue to haunt you for quite some time. And there might be some ignorant idiots who place the blame on you, but don't listen to them, because those are the ones who didn't take just one moment to really think about it. The people who really care about you know what happened that night, and we know that it's not been your fault. Your friends at school know and when some other idiots try to give you a hard time about what happened that night then they'll back you up. You just have to let them. And Remus and I both are here for you, we both know that you're not to blame for anything.

Harry, you're not responsible for Cedric's death."

Harry bit his lower lip as Sirius said those words. He knew them to be true, deep down inside he knew, but somehow he still didn't believe it. When he looked up at Sirius, he realized that his godfather understood that feeling, if there was anybody who understood it, then it was Sirius. It remained unspoken between them at that moment, but James' name hung in the air between them, the switching of the secret keepers and the blame Sirius still placed on himself for the death of his best friend. It was not the same situation, but it was similar enough that both could understand each other, and ridiculously enough while both did not blame the other for what had happened to him, towards themselves they didn't judge that lightly. Harry did not begrudge Sirius for changing the secret keepers, he did not blame his parents' death upon his godfather, but nevertheless Sirius would always continue to blame himself for it, no matter how often he was told that it wasn't so. Just as well Sirius knew that Harry would always carry around a feeling of guilt for what happened to his schoolmate, no matter how often the teenager was told that he was not to blame for anything that had happened that night. It hurt Sirius that there was nothing he could do about it, nothing he could do to make Harry feel better.

If Sirius got his way, he'd pack Harry into a cocoon and lock him away for the rest of his teenage years in a desperate attempt to protect him from the world out there, but he knew that it just wouldn't be possible. Harry would have to face the world again as soon as his holidays were over, and all Sirius could do until then was to give the teenager the feeling that whatever would happen during the upcoming year, he and Remus would be there to back him up no matter what.

Gently, Sirius ran his right hand across Harry's left cheek and across the bruise that was still visible beneath the pustules, noticing how the teenager flinched a little under the contact. There might be nothing he could do about Harry's feelings of guilt, but if his suspicions were true he'd be damned if he let that muggle get away with that.

"Care to talk about that?"

Harry frowned.

"About what?"

"About that bruise the size of Kent on your left cheek."

Again, Harry frowned and ran his own hand across his cheek.

"Is there? I really didn't know. But that explains why it hurts when I lie on it."

"Harry, you don't want to tell me that you have a huge bruise on your face and don't know where it comes from."

Harry just shrugged and trained his eyes onto the tissue in his hands again. "I guess Vernon wasn't very pleased that I got sick."

Sirius breathed in deeply and closed his eyes.

"Did he hit you often?" Sirius didn't want to know the answer to that question, he dreaded to hear what his godson would answer, but he needed to know. Harry shrugged again, his eyes still not rising to meet Sirius' gaze.

"No, not really. He got angry quite often, but mostly he didn't catch me. From time to time I caught a slap, that's all. It's nothing, really."

Sirius growled unconsciously at the thought of that fat muggle slapping his godson, but for Harry's sake he refrained from saying anything. He wasn't entirely convinced that Harry was telling the whole truth about the frequency of Vernon hitting him, but he also realized that if Harry wasn't, he could not do anything about it. Maybe Harry told the truth, and maybe he didn't, but whatever it was it was Harry's choice to tell him or not. If the teenager wanted to just leave everything that concerned his muggle relatives behind for good, then Sirius would have to accept that. He'd just make sure that the next time he met Vernon Dursley, he'd let that excuse of an uncle feel how angry he was about what he had done.

"Harry, you know that your uncle had no right to do that, don't you?" As Harry didn't immediately answer, Sirius forced his face up with his fingers under his chin again and thus forced him to look into his eyes. "It's not normal to get hit by your family, absolutely not. I hope you know that I would never do that to you." Inwardly, Sirius cringed at his own words. How should Harry know that Sirius would be different? The kid barely knew him, they had hardly met at all during the past three years. There was just no way Harry could really know.

Slowly, Harry nodded. "Yes, of course I know."  
Sirius looked doubtful, not entirely sure to which part Harry was responding right now. "You sure?"

Harry nodded and rolled his eyes a little. "Yes, I'm sure Sirius. It's really no big deal, please don't get yourself all that worked up about it. Could we just not talk about it?"

"Okay."

They sat in silence for a moment, Sirius lost in his thoughts about what he could possibly do to Vernon Dursley while Harry still fidgeted with the now completely torn tissue.

"I'm sorry."

Harry's soft voice tore Sirius out of his musings and with quite some surprise he looked at his godson.  
"What?"

"I'm sorry. For waking you. For being nothing but trouble ever since I came here. First I'm sick, then I get nightmares, you only worry about me…"  
"Stop it, Harry. Stop it right now. You don't cause trouble, and you're not a burden either. You can't help that you're sick, that just happens sometimes. And if that poor excuse of a family had taken you to a doctor in time, it wouldn't have become a problem at all. As for waking me up in the night or telling me about your problems, that's nothing to be sorry for. If you need to talk, or want somebody to listen, don't hesitate to wake me up, that's what I'm here for. Promise?"

Hesitantly, Harry's green eyes locked with his godfather's and he slowly nodded.

"Promise."

"Now, you think you can go back to sleep? Remus will have my hide if he knows I keep you awake in the dead of the night. And between the two of us – he's insufferable when he's angry."

Harry fleetingly recalled Remus saying the same thing about Sirius when he was feeling useless, but he chose better not to comment on it. Maybe those two had just spent too much time with only each other over the past year. Instead he nodded and sank back into his pillows.

"I'll be alright, Sirius. Go back to sleep. And – thank you, Sirius."

"Anytime. Now sleep, I'm here if you need something. Good night."

"Good night, Sirius."

As Harry stretched under his blankets again and felt and heard Sirius shift into a comfortable position on the cot less than two metres to his right, Harry felt more guarded and safe than he had in a long time and soon fell asleep again. At least for that night, the nightmares about Cedric and Voldemort didn't return.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

When Harry woke up the next morning, it was to the sound of voices talking lowly somewhere beside him. Upon opening his eyes, he found that Remus was sitting on the edge of Sirius' cot, talking lowly to his godfather. Sirius, who seemed to have woken up not so long ago, for his hair was still dishevelled and he wasn't looking as if he was perfectly awake yet, lay on his back with his head resting on his bent arm, looking up at Remus and listening to what he was telling. Neither Remus nor Sirius seemed to have realized that Harry was awake yet.

But what worried Harry far more than the fact that he again had slept until past nine was that Remus was holding the brown bottle with the potion against his pustules in his hands. If there was something Harry absolutely didn't need right now, it was the smell of that stuff all over him again. At first he had thought that working in Snape's classroom twice a week would have prepared him for everything, but by now Harry was convinced that whoever had invented that potion was even more sadistic than Harry's least liked teacher.

"Good morning, Harry."

"Morning Sirius. Morning Prof…Remus."

Remus just smiled at Harry's near-slip and got up from where he had been sitting on Sirius' cot. As he turned over towards Harry's bed with the potion bottle in hand, Harry screwed up his face, ready to put on a fight should the man come too close to him with the disgusting stuff. Next to him, Sirius chuckled gleefully.

"You were standing this without complaint for far longer than anybody I've ever heard of, Harry. Most of the people get fed up with the smell when they get treated for the second or third time."  
Harry just grimaced into his godfather's direction and tried to edge away as far as possible from Remus and the threatening potion bottle in the werewolf's hands. Sirius chuckled again and got up from his cot.

"As much as I'd like to stay, but Albus is waiting for me downstairs."

And with another grin into Harry's direction, Sirius vanished from the room and closed the door shut behind himself. Harry just stared at the empty space from where he had vanished, then he cast a pleading glance at Remus.

"I really feel fine again, I don't think that the potion is needed anymore, you know?"

Remus just grinned and put the bottle onto the bedside table.

"Nice try, but the answer is no. As long as the pustules are there, you'll have to keep on applying that potion. And don't even think about casting a concealment charm over the pustules, my brother tried that at the age of eleven and it went horribly wrong. Nearly made himself invisible, and for about two weeks he ran around all shiny and translucent like a ghost. Drove my parents nuts, I can tell you."  
"You have a brother?"  
There was so much astonishment in Harry's voice that Remus nearly laughed out loud.

"Yes, why shouldn't I?"  
Harry blushed a little. "No, it's not that. It's just…I don't know. It's just that neither you nor Sirius ever mentioned him, so I guess I was a little surprised."

Remus smiled at Harry, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"His name is Janus, he's four years older than me and we don't have that much contact, so it's not all that surprising that you never heard him mentioned."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" 

Remus waved off Harry's apology. "You did nothing you need to apologize for, Harry. And if you thought that you were just too curious, then you have never seen Sirius in one of his more inquisitive moods.

Right, but if my memory doesn't betray me, then we were just about to look after your pustules again."

Harry grimaced and immediately moved away from Remus and the potion bottle. He didn't care in the slightest that he was behaving like a small child right now, all he wanted was to put as much space between himself and that pink stuff as possible.

"Can't I go to the bathroom first? And I'd like to take a shower, I've been lying in that bed for days on end and I don't think putting me in a tub with ice cold water counts as taking a shower."

Remus laughed at that. "No, I don't think it does. You think you're steady enough on your feet to make it on your own?"  
Harry nodded, though he was grateful that Remus stayed by his side as he climbed out of his bed and made his way towards the door on a bit shaky legs. The bathroom was just across the hall, that much Harry still remembered from when Remus had dragged him there after he had been sick on Sirius' lap, but even that distance was enough to make him sit down on the edge of the bathtub in exhaustion as he reached the room. Remus came after him with a new pair of pyjamas and two towels on his arm. He put them onto the small shelf next to the sink.

"All right, there are towels and something clean for you to wear. I put out a toothbrush for you on the shelf, it's the blue one. Anything else you might need should be in here, I guess. If something's wrong or if you need something, call me okay? I'm just across the hall."

Harry nodded and Remus left the room, closing the door behind himself. Slowly, Harry got out of his boxer shorts and climbed into the tub, closing the curtain around it behind himself. He spent the best part of the next twenty minutes under the warm spray of water, rinsing even the last bit of pink potion off of his body. It was good to feel clean again, though he knew it wouldn't last very long, at least not when the potion was concerned. 

Harry combed down his unruly hair, brushed his teeth and then spent a couple of minutes staring at the bruise on his left cheek. Now he understood why Sirius had looked so concerned about it, this time Vernon seemed to have outdone himself. Harry guessed that his uncle must have hit him a couple of times to get him awake while he had been lying on his bed with fever, but as much as he thought about it, Harry for the life of him could not remember. Well, the bruise was already turning greenish-yellow anyway, and if things just for once in his life continued to work out for the better, then Harry would never need to worry about Vernon Dursley or any of his other muggle relatives again. Never. He grinned at his reflection in the mirror, and the mirror grinned back.

"I don't have to go back! I can stay with Sirius, isn't that great?"

His reflection just looked at him, then shrugged.

"If you say so. But mind you, he sings in the shower. And he's not exactly gifted with a good voice."

Harry grinned, imagining his godfather singing horribly wrong behind the shower-curtain. No, he couldn't say that this image destroyed his good mood about living together with him. Not really.

A knock on the door made him turn away from his reflection, which was just about to stick out his tongue at Harry.

"Come in."

Remus appeared in the doorframe.

"You alright? You've been in here for quite a while now."

"Yes, thanks. Though I think you should try to teach your mirror some manners."

"Is it talking about Sirius' singing again?" Remus laughed. "It's just not used to having other people except from me around, so when Sirius moved in last year it started its personal vendetta against him. Funny thing is, Sirius is even more malicious than that mirror, you should hear him sometimes when he comes out of the bathroom. A couple of times already I caught him shouting at his own reflection first thing in the morning."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but then thought better of it. Somehow, he had the feeling that shouting at impolite mirrors was just something that happened with Sirius around and he'd have to get used to it anyway.

"Ready to go back to bed?"

Harry just grimaced at those words. "Do I really have to? I mean, why can't I spend the day downstairs or so?" As soon as he had said them, Harry regretted the words. He could be glad enough that Sirius and Remus had taken him away from the Dursleys, and that Remus allowed him to stay here while he was still sick, he shouldn't be complaining about this being restricted to one room. But Remus obviously didn't notice anything unusual about his last statement, here merely smiled knowingly.

"Yes, you really have to go back to bed. You don't get enough rest and sleep now, your sickness is going to come back with a vengeance. Give it another day, and tomorrow we'll see about moving your downstairs for the day. How about that?"

"I just thought it was worth a try."

Remus laughed. "I imagine it was. Come on, let's get you back to your room."

It struck Harry as odd that Remus was calling the spare bedroom 'his' room when it had been Sirius' for the past year. Still was, actually, because his godfather slept there as well. But that was a line of thought he just couldn't pursue any further today, he was too drowsy and also too hungry to do so.

When he came back into his room, the first thing he noticed was that somebody – presumably Remus – had made his bed and that a plate with breakfast was standing on the now cleaned up bedside table. With a grateful smile, Harry sank down onto the mattress again and placed the plate on his lap. Between two bites of scrambled eggs, he mumbled a 'thank you' into Remus' direction.

"Don't thank me too early, we still have to look after that pustules of yours again before you start scratching yourself bloody."

Harry just nodded and chewed on his breakfast. "What's Sirius doing downstairs with Professor Dumbledore?"

"I don't know, really. He came by shortly before you woke and only told me that he wanted to talk to Sirius. But I'm sure it's nothing bad, otherwise he'd have told us as well. As for now..."

Remus grabbed the potion bottle which – against all of Harry's hopes – was still half filled and waved a cotton cloth in front of Harry's face. Harry grimaced again but obediently took the cloth and shrugged out of his pyjama top. After cleaning away all the crusted potion remnants in the shower, he now had the first real possibility to look clearly at his pustules. They were still there, sadly, but he had the impression that they had somewhat lessened in number and size from when he had first seen them. But maybe that was just his imagination, because upon waking up and finding out about his Dragonpox, Harry had been extremely shocked and maybe overrated the whole pustule issue. Breathing stoically through his mouth, Harry applied the potion as far as he could, allowing Remus to take care of the places he could not reach.

When Remus applied the potion to Harry's face, sitting down on the mattress opposite of him and watched what he was doing with a look of concentration, Harry for the first time took a closer look at his teacher's face. Harry had already noticed during the past weeks at school that Remus appeared to be a lot more relaxed in his whole bearing, and now he realized that the lines around Remus' eyes and mouth were less pronounced than they had been during his third year when he had first met the man. With quite some surprise he realized that Remus' eyes also had an extraordinary colour. Harry by now knew that people in the wizarding world sometimes looked extremely different from what he had seen in the muggle world, but he had never seen somebody with amber eyes ever before.

Realizing that he was being stared at, Remus stopped his ministrations and rose a questioning eyebrow at Harry.

"Something wrong?"

Harry blushed and quickly averted his eyes, trying to look somewhere else.

"No, no sorry. I was just wondering something."

"Well? Out with it, Harry."

"I was just wondering about your eyes. Their colour, I mean. I've never seen somebody with amber eyes before, I think."

Remus smiled, though somewhat sadly Harry thought.

"No, I didn't think you'd have. They've not always been amber, they changed after I got bitten."  
Harry frowned.

"Your eye colour changed when you got bitten by the wolf?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, during the first moon cycle afterwards. If you know what to look after, the eyes are one of the surest ways to identify a werewolf, which you might have known had you written that essay for Severus back in your third year." But Remus smiled as he said the last part, letting Harry know that he didn't really expect him to have written that essay.

"What do you mean, 'if you know what to look after'?"

Remus sat back in a more comfortable position and thought for a moment.

"Merely judging by the eye colour can be misleading. I don't know exactly, but I'd say that though amber might be an unlikely colour, it's not impossible for somebody to have such eyes without begin a lycanthrope. But what clearly marks out a werewolf even in his human form is that there's always a certain...how to say it...feral quality in them. The closer it gets to full moon, the more distinguished this becomes. It's not exactly obvious, but as I said, if you know what to look after, you can easily detect the animal within the human on the days close to full moon if you watch the eyes."

Harry nodded, thinking this through.

"What colour were they before?"

Remus was a bit taken aback by that question, as if he was not used to people being interested in something about his private life.

"Brown. Not dark brown, more hazel, I think." He shrugged. "To be bluntly honest, I haven't thought about that for ages, it's been nearly thirty-four years ago now."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring up something you don't want to think about."  
Remus shook his head and gave Harry a reassuring smile. "No, it's all right, Harry. It's just that I'm slowly realizing that my memory becomes a bit treacherous when it comes to things that lie so long in the past. I think I might be getting old."  
He smiled at Harry again and took the empty breakfast plate.

"Do you need something else from downstairs? Something to occupy you until Sirius comes up again? Or do you want to sleep some more?"  
"No, I think I've slept enough for a while. If it's all right, I'd like to send an owl to Ron and Hermione, to tell them what happened and that I'm okay. I'm sure they're worried because I've not written them for so long. If it's okay to tell them that I'm here, of course."

Remus nodded. "They already know, at least Ron. We got a letter from him the day we went to Privet Drive, and because he was so worried I called up Molly in the evening and told her that you were here and that you were relatively all right. But you can tell Ron and Hermione of course, I'll bring you some parchment and something to write when I come up again."

He turned towards the door, but suddenly another question crossed Harry's mind.

"Professor?"  
Remus turned and mock-glared at Harry.

"Remus, I mean. What about Hedwig? Uncle Vernon didn't allow me to let her out of the cage and she wasn't all that well last I can remember. What happened to her?"

"We brought her here with us. She was a bit worn out, hadn't had enough food or movement for quite some time, but I fattened her up for the first day and then she was strong enough to go out hunting on her own. Right now she's probably sitting in the attic, sleeping next to my owls. She's fine, Harry."  
"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll bring you something to write in a couple of minutes, and later I'll send down Hedwig."

Remus left the room and closed the door behind himself, leaving Harry alone in Sirius' bedroom. He didn't know how long Remus would take until he came back with something to write and neither did he know when Sirius would be finished talking to Professor Dumbledore, so maybe he should find something to keep himself occupied while he waited for some company to return to him. Slowly, Harry climbed out of the bed and walked across the room towards the bookshelf on the far off wall. Maybe he'd find something to keep himself from boredom there.

Sirius, as it appeared to be, was not exactly a person who read for fun. Though there were many books on the shelf, most of them dealt with some aspect of magic or other. There were many texts and volumes on the Dark Arts, historical abstracts and spell books. Only on the lower shelf were some books that could be considered for pastime reading at all.

But just as Harry had settled back into his bed with a book about Grindelwald and his defeat, the door to his room opened again and Remus appeared, levitating Harry's school trunk in front of him. Seeing the book in Harry's hands, he smiled.

"Interesting choice for pastime reading."

Harry closed the book and put it on the bedside table. "Sorry. I didn't know when you'd come back and thought I might have a look at the books here."

Remus just waved him off.

"I don't mind, Harry. I don't think Sirius has something here that should not fall into the hands of a sixteen year old." He shrugged. "And even if he had, it's not as if you're an ordinary sixteen year old anyway. I just don't think that it's a good read, it will probably bore you to sleep within fifteen minutes. If you want to read something, I could bring you some novels from downstairs."

"That would be great, thanks."

"No problem. All right, here is your school trunk. I hope I packed in everything at your relatives' house, but it didn't look as if you had unpacked much of it already.

And here's some spare parchment for your letters."

"Thank you."

"I'll be downstairs if you need something else. And I guess Sirius will be up with you again shortly, he's already drumming his fingers on the armrests impatiently, and if whatever Albus tells him isn't all that important he'll be up here again within half an hour."

Harry leaned over the edge of he bed and searched around in his trunk until he found his quill and ink, then he sat back on his bed and reached for a piece of parchment. Remus had already left the room again and so Harry took his time and started to write his letters to Ron and Hermione.

He told Ron in lengths about the Dragonpox and how plain disgusting the potion with which the pustules were treated was, guessing that Ron could relate to what he was saying. With five brothers and a sister, Harry thought it unlikely that Ron had not had Dragonpox as a child. He didn't go too much into detail with Hermione, knowing already that she would research everything on the sickness immediately anyway. After telling his friends that he was doing as fine as one in his situation could, and that he was staying with Sirius and Remus, though he had no idea where exactly that was, he asked them for news from the weeks in which they had not seen each other and finished the letters. They weren't exactly the longest he had ever written, but right now he just didn't have anything more to say. When one of the adults came up later on, he'd ask them to bring the letters to Hedwig and send her on her way.

But somehow it was as if Sirius had known that he was finished, because Harry had just put the letters aside and been leafing through the Grindelwald book for maybe fifteen minutes when the door to his room opened slowly and Sirius entered, balancing a tray on top of a rather large stack of books. The whole construction swayed dangerously in his arms, but nothing fell down so Harry supposed that maybe Remus had put a sticking charm on it.

Finally Sirius reached the bed and knelt down next to it, placing the books on the floor and taking the tray off the top.

Before he even said something, he placed a hand on Harry's forehead and felt his temperature.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. A bit drowsy still, but not really tired."

"Good. No fever as far as I can see, that should mean you're on the mend. In about a week you'll be as good as new."

Harry closed the book that still lay in his lap and softly put it on the floor next to his bed as Sirius reached for the tray on the bedside table.

"Okay, I have some tea here for you, and Remus also made sandwiches to keep you from starving until lunch. He had to head off to Hogwarts with Professor Dumbledore for some reason and so lunch will be a bit later than usual today."

"But I've eaten breakfast only a bit more than an hour ago."

Sirius sat down on the foot end of Harry's bed and gave him a look that clearly said 'And where's the problem?', something Harry was used to after five years of being friends with Ron. Some people could eat anytime and anywhere, and his godfather seemed to belong to them.

"You're still growing, you need to eat. Besides, you don't look as if you've eaten pretty much during the past weeks."

Harry realized that he was fighting a losing battle of wills here, and he truly felt a bit hungry again, so he didn't complain any further. Though the thought that food was available anytime, not depending on Vernon's mood or Petunia's desire to torment him was still something Harry needed to get used to.

"Remus told me to bring you those books in what I guess is another attempt of his to make the people around him share his bookworm-tendencies."

Harry shook his head. "No, that's alright. I asked him for them."

Sirius rose an eyebrow at that, seemingly surprised that Harry had actually asked for books. But Harry just shrugged.

"I can't expect the both of you to sit up with me for the entire day, so I need something to keep myself occupied. I mean, you and Remus surely have something more important to do than to keep me company."

"There's nothing more important than you right now, Harry."

There was nothing but honesty in Sirius' voice, but still Harry felt a bit uncomfortable at hearing this. He knew that Sirius as well as Remus were involved deeply with Albus Dumbledore and whatever it was that his headmaster was doing against the threat of Voldemort. There was a war approaching and with the Ministry in its momentary state of absolute inactivity, Dumbledore needed every good wizard and witch he could get to help him in his cause. Harry just knew that Sirius and Remus had to do something else, and Harry's presence surely caused a couple of disturbances in the plans they had had.

But Sirius seemed to have finished that topic with his last statement, because he didn't say anything more about it but remained firmly seated on the foot end of Harry's bed.

"But right now I'm free and I'm here, and if you want to start reading now I'll die of boredom." He sighed and let himself dramatically fall backwards onto the bed in an impression of what his death of boredom was looking like. "I've had enough of watching people read over the course of the past year, thank you very much." Sirius sat up again. "Remus hardly ever does anything else, really. You finished your letters?"

Harry nodded and gestured at the parchments on his bedside table.

"Yeah, one for Ron and one for Hermione. If you find the time later on, I'd be glad if you could bring them up to Hedwig. Remus said something about her being in the attic."

Sirius nodded. "If she doesn't show up before that, I will. We'll just leave the window open, maybe she comes for a visit anyway. That owl is pretty attached to you."

Harry smiled fondly. "She's been my first real present. Harry got her for me on my eleventh birthday, just after telling me that I was a wizard and that I could leave the Dursleys for most of the year. As if that hadn't been present enough already."

Sirius stopped smiling as Harry mentioned his relatives, and he began to rummage around in the stack of books next to Harry's bed. He cursed loudly as his hand got stuck in the sticking charm that was holding the books together, then pulled out his wand and removed the charm. Stored in one of the books were some sheets of parchment, folded neatly. He handed them to Harry.

"Here, I wanted to show you those. A Ministry owl delivered them while Albus was visiting, otherwise I'd have come up with them immediately."

Harry frowned and took up the parchments. "What is this?"

"Well", Sirius started with a mischievous smile, "let's just say that I no longer do something illegal by keeping you with me."

"They granted you custody?"

Sirius nodded. "I think Albus sped things up a bit, as far he had an influence on it, though he won't admit it. Maybe he even called in a couple of favours, because I had not expected things to go this fast. Or smoothly, for that matter. I had expected them to be a bit more reluctant about it, to have them make unannounced visits or to question you, but nothing." He shrugged. "The fact that your parents announced me as your guardian in their will and the fact that their inspection of my Gringott's account and my post-trial medical examination seemed to have them convinced that I'm financially able and mentally stable enough to take care of you, so I surely won't complain about the lack of people snooping around in our lives."

Suddenly, his face grew serious.

"I hope it's all right with you that all this happened so fast. I know we haven't really talked about it, I thought there would be time once you were up and about again."

Harry fingered the parchment in his hands carefully, as if it would evolve into dust if he touched it wrongly. He could not really believe that he was holding them in his hands, that those parchments meant what he thought they did.

"This means I'll never have to go back to the Dursleys if I don't want to, right?"

Harry's voice sounded a bit too childish for his own liking, but if Sirius noticed he didn't show. He nodded.

"And it means that I can stay with you. They can't change that suddenly and make me leave again, can they?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, they can't."

Harry smiled and looked into Sirius' eyes.

"Then it's perfectly all right. Thank you, Sirius."

Sirius smiled a relieved smile and squeezed Harry's shoulder once. "Nothing to thank me for. Now, I don't know how Remus already told you, but when you're better again we're going to prepare to move."

He searched Harry's face for any sign of surprise, but didn't find anything. Harry just shrugged.  
"Remus said something about moving to your place, but nothing more."

Sirius nodded and settled more comfortably onto the foot end of the mattress. "Right, then I think I should start telling you a couple of things. I spent the days before Remus and I went to Privet Drive going through fourteen years worth of bank accounts and property reports, all stuff about which I really don't have a clue. You see, my parents were not exactly poor and my savings from the few years after school before I got arrested also stayed in my Gringott's account until a week ago and grew interests upon interests there. In addition to that, my parents also left me their house when they died and I lived there until I got carted off to Azkaban.

Now, I haven't been at the house in years, mind you, but from what I gathered from the official papers it's still standing. When you're healthy again I want to take you and Remus along to have a look at it. It might be a day or two of work to do, but I hope that we'll have your birthday party there."

Harry blushed a little. "I really don't need a birthday party, Sirius."

"What?" Sirius roared indignantly. "You're going to be sixteen Harry! Of course you need a birthday party. You'll invite all of your friends over, listen to extremely annoying music and complain about the adults who are hanging around the house, and then you'll try to get drunk on the booze that some of your more daring friends have smuggled in and have a horrible headache the next morning which makes you swear never to drink again. Just like a party for a sixteenth birthday should look like." He shrugged. "At least that's what my sixteenth birthday looked like. Though I think Remus will be after my blood if I let you drink."

Harry laughed. "He didn't agree with you getting yourself drunk on your sixteenth birthday?"

Sirius thought for a moment, then laughed a loud, roaring laugh. "No, you can't say that. He rather was one of the more daring friends – along with your father – who managed to smuggle a bottle of Odgeon's Firewhiskey in behind my father's back to spike our drinks. You might not believe it, but Remus was not always this serious and grown up as he is now. There were times when he proved himself to be an equally talented prankster than your father and I were. But Remus was the only one of us who kept to his vow of never getting himself drunk again after that party."

Harry frowned. "Why?"

"Let's just say that he found out how alcohol works on the werewolf metabolism the hard way. Really, I thought he'd never stop throwing up." He laughed fondly at the memory. "But by now Remus has become a responsible adult, and in case some of your friend plan on...let's say brightening things up a bit at your party, they should prepare on what they're dealing with. That man can get really scary sometimes."

Harry just shook his head and tried to imagine what that might look like. For the life of him, he could not imagine Remus sternly confiscating alcohol on a birthday party, but then again he only knew him as his teacher so far. Sirius surely knew what he was talking about.

But as Harry didn't think any of his friends would try to do anything like this, he needn't worry about it. Okay, Fred and George would surely not arrive at a party empty-handed, but somehow Harry had the fleeting suspicion that if the twins brought something to 'brighten things up', then it would not be alcohol.

And he really didn't need to worry about this now, because the idea of having a birthday party was still a completely abstract concept for him anyway. He'd not start planning a birthday party anytime soon, he'd rather watch and wait how things developed from here on. He was glad enough to be with Sirius right now, happy that he would never have to return to the Dursleys, that was enough for him. He didn't really need a birthday party on top of that.

Sirius waved a hand in front of Harry's eyes. "You still with me?"

Harry blinked rapidly and nodded. "Yeah, sorry. Drifted off for a moment."

Immediately, concern showed on Sirius' face again. "Are you feeling all right? Do you want to sleep?"

Harry shook his head. "No. No, I'm not tired." He smiled wryly. "You wouldn't happen to have some Exploding Snap cards here, would you?"

Sirius' eyes brightened.

"Oh, I don't think you know what you let yourself in for. Just give me one moment." He got up from the foot end of the bed and walked over to the chest of drawers on the wall, pulled open a drawer and started to rummage around. His hands vanished up to his elbows into the drawer, and Harry had the fleeting thought that Remus would have a heart failure if he took a look into that chest of drawers. Remus seemed to be a very tidy person, but his godfather on the other hand...

"Ha!" With a look of triumph Sirius pulled out a set of Exploding Snap cards and quickly shut the drawer again. Harry had the fleeting impression that something had snapped at Sirius' hand shortly before the drawer closed shut, but he quickly dismissed that thought. If there was something living in Sirius' chest of drawers, he didn't think he wanted to know.

"Move over."

Harry obediently sat up, his back leaning against the headboard while Sirius sat down opposite of him and dealt out the cards on the blankets between them. "All right Harry, ready to face the all time ever Hogwarts Exploding Snap champion?"

Harry just grinned. "Bragger." He picked up his cards and they began to play.

When Remus came into the room two and a half hours later, carrying a tray with lunch in front of him, he didn't even bother to hide his smile. Harry's bed was covered in soot as if something had exploded between the bed sheets. A discarded game of Exploding Snape was still lying on the covers, some cards had fallen down onto the floor. Harry was half sitting, half lying against the headboard, his eyes closed and his head fallen to the side. Amidst the chaos of his bed sheets, Sirius lay outstretched across the bed on his stomach, a book in his hands and a bored look on his face as he leafed through the pages of one of the novels Remus had sent him to bring up.

Remus set down the tray on the bedside table, thus drawing Sirius' attention.

"Harry's asleep?"

Sirius snapped the book close and rolled onto his side. "Yeah. Fell asleep in the middle of a game of Exploding Snap, have you ever heard about something like that?"

Remus chuckled. "No, but I remember somebody falling asleep in the Quidditch stands, in the middle of a Gryffindor versus Slytherin match."

"I didn't get any sleep the night before! And besides, it's irrelevant, because I would have been playing had it not been for that stupid banishment from the team for the game."

The smile on Remus' lips died. Maybe he should not have brought up that topic right now. Sirius had been banned from the Quidditch team for the entire second term of their sixth year as a direct consequence of his sending Snape down the passage of the Whomping Willow. But Sirius didn't seem to think about that sore topic right now, because he leaned up on his elbows and tried to look onto the tray with food.

"I smell lunch! Shall we wake Harry?"

Remus shook his head. "No, let him sleep. A little nap might do him good, his temperature is still a bit higher than usual. Shall we go downstairs?"

Instead of answering, Sirius carefully leaned forward over Harry's sleeping form and grabbed one of the plates from the tray. "Nah, let's stay here. He'll be just bored if he wakes up alone, and from all that I know about him he would not even call for food if he was close to starvation. Thanks to those blasted relatives of his."

Remus mustered Sirius with an intense gaze. "I hope you're not planning anything stupid, Sirius."

Sirius frowned, feigning ignorance. He failed miserably. "Like what, Remus?"

"Like going for another visit at Privet Drive, for example." The look on his friend's face told him that he had hit a nerve with what he had said. "Sirius, leave it be. It won't help anybody if you go banging in there and hex the Dursleys into oblivion."

"Leave it be? Remus, that muggle hit Harry! Look at that bruise on his face, can you imagine how hard he must have slapped him for that? And they didn't even think it necessary to bring him to a doctor when he got sick. I don't even want to imagine what had happened if we had not taken him out of there."

"I know that, Sirius. And I'm just as angry about this as you are. But I also know that it will help nobody if you lose your temper and try to pay the Dursleys back. The Ministry will take Harry away from you faster than you can say 'Quidditch' and then he'll have to go back to them. Do you want that?"

Sirius shook his head in defeat, though there was still a gleam in his eye that told Remus that he had not entirely convinced his friend.

"No, I don't want that."

"Then promise me you won't go back to the Dursleys."

Sirius didn't answer immediately, so Remus went over towards him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Sirius..."

"All right, all right, I promise."

Remus nodded. "Thank you." Then he took up his own plate of food. "Good. Just keep that in mind. Let's eat now and then we should probably clean up the mess the two of you left on that bed."

Sirius nodded reluctantly, but he obediently picked up his fork and started on his food. Remus might have coaxed the promise not to go visiting the Dursleys on his own accord out of him, and Sirius would not break that promise, but should the possibility present itself to pay Harry's relatives back some day, he was not all that sure he would be able to keep himself in check. For Vernon Dursley's own sake the man should hope never to accidentally encounter Sirius in his life.


End file.
